Are We Dating?
by Hermineuh
Summary: Dean is a cop who spent five years undercover in a notorious criminal organization. Now that his work is done, he must readjust to a civilian lifestyle, learn to say goodbye to loved ones and embrace what he left behind. And he tries. Oh, does he try hard! He wants to take his time, go at his own pace, but this damn blue-eyed guy keeps pushing him out of his comfort zone.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello dear reader, welcome to "Are We Dating?". This is my newest story for the yearly DeanCasBigBang challenge, which is also my first BigBang. I hope you will like the story! Please go check the wonderful art created by vinnie-cha (on tumblr) and give her a warm "Thank You!" for her amazing art!_

 _Enjoy!_

(***)

"I don't need a shrink!" Dean told his colleague and friend Benny Lafitte. "The psych-eval already gave me the go!"

"It's not a shrink, brother. And yeah, you kinda do," Benny replied softly.

Dean grumbled but eventually kept his mouth shut. He turned his head and looked outside the window, lazily eyeing the buildings as they drove past them. He was not in the mood for arguments.

After ten minutes, they reached their destination, a four-story building which did not look well-maintained. Benny parked the car and turned off the ignition.

"Look, all you have to do is do whatever the guy tells you, answer his questions, then you'll be back in the force in no time," he said in a low voice.

Dean turned slightly to face him. Benny gave him a concerned look and Dean felt bad.

"It's already been one month," Dean said with a dismissive gesture. "I'm good!"

"Hey, I'm not the one you should convince," Benny said. "Get the paper signed and Singer will reinstate you right on the spot."

This whole administrative deal was a bother for Dean. He caught the bad guys, they were in a place where they could not hurt anyone anymore and Dean was proud of his achievement. But since he finished the job, he had been moved from one safe house to another, trying to make sure no mafia mob would ever find out Dean was the snitch or worse, that he was a cop. They went to great lengths to make sure his identity was preserved, that his cover would hold until the whole organization collapsed. And here he was, five years later, after doing one hell of a job, needing to prove he was not compromised, that he still could be a cop without being undercover. Dean found this ridiculous, on the verge of humiliating. He knew his captain had no other choice: prove you are sane or get out.

"Can you do that, brother?" Benny asked.

"Yeah, of course!" Dean reassured him.

"Let's get going then."

They got out of the car and headed towards the building. The office was on the second floor. They took the stairs, which looked like they had known better days and entered what seemed like the only office on the floor. As soon as they entered, they felt like they stepped into a high business company. Every piece of furniture was new and seemed expensive, the white walls were decorated with tasteful modern art and the whole room was well lit with half a dozen stylish lamps.

Behind her desk, the receptionist looked up. She tucked a lock of long black hair behind her right ear before greeting them.

"Mr. Winchester?" she asked.

"Yes, that's me," Dean answered, holding his right hand up.

"He will receive you now," she said, indicating the door on the right.

"I'll wait for you here," Benny told Dean, taking a seat next to the receptionist.

"Alright…" Dean sighed. "Let's do this."

He walked towards the door and stopped for a few seconds, allowing himself some time to calm down before facing whatever psychiatrist or voodoo maniac he was about to meet. He breathed in and out, slowly.

He opened the door and stepped into the office.

The first thing Dean noticed was the soothing atmosphere of the place. Huge windows with modern curtains, gentle lighting, comfortable looking armchairs, some plants here and there and a serious-looking man in front of him.

"Mr. Winchester, I've been expecting you," said the man behind his desk in a gravelly voice, looking up from the papers that were spread out in front of him. "Come on in."

Dean closed the door behind him. Immediately, the man stood up, walked around his desk and held out his hand. He was about Dean's height and had dark hair.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Winchester, I'm-"

"Yeah sure," Dean cut him right away. "Let's get this over with, okay?"

He didn't shake his hand. All he wanted was to get that damn paper signed at the soonest and go back to being a cop.

"Sure," the man replied, withdrawing his hand. He indicated the two armchairs facing each other.

"Please, have a seat."

Dean obliged and sat down, followed shortly by the dark haired man, who took hold of a notebook and a pen. He crossed his legs and started scribbling.

"Ready when you are," he told Dean.

He nodded. "I'm ready."

"Right. Let me tell you about the whole process-," he began.

"I'm aware," Dean interrupted. "You'll ask me questions, tell me to do things, right?"

"That's a really short summary, but basically accurate."

"Alright then! Shoot, Mr. Shrink."

"I am not a psychiatrist, Mr. Winchester," he replied, tilting his head slightly.

"Whatever, man, let's move on," Dean said with a dismissive hand gesture.

"Sure. What is your name?" the man asked.

"What?" Dean shot back. "You already know that!"

"Yes, and I would like you to tell me," he answered calmly.

Dean sighed. "Look I don't know what game you're playing, but this is ridiculous!"

The stern-faced man kept quiet, only looking straight at Dean, leaving him a bit uncomfortable.

He surrendered. "Dean Winchester."

"Thank you Mr. Winchester," the man replied, scribbling in his notebook. He remained silent for a few seconds before asking, "How old are you?"

"Thirty one as of last January."

He looked down on the notebook and made some annotations in silence. "Do you have any family?"

"Yes, two parents and a brother."

"What are your parents' names?" the man continued, still writing.

"Are you gonna write down everything I say?" Dean asked.

"Yes. Leave that part to me and please focus on answering my questions, Mr. Winchester."

Dean frowned. "Seriously?"

Seeing that he had to play the game, he once again conceded. "Mary and John Winchester."

"Are they still alive?"

"Yes."

"Where do they live?"

"Lawrence, Kansas."

"What is your brother's name?"

"Sammy… Sam Winchester," he corrected himself, wiping his hands on his jeans.

"Where does he live?"

"Stanford… I guess?"

"Do you often meet with your family?"

"In case you didn't know, I've been kinda busy these past years." Dean replied. He sat a bit straighter. "Couldn't get time off to spend happy jolly holidays with them!"

"No need to be sarcastic, a simple no would have suffice," the man told him, making Dean grumble. "Were they aware of your mission?"

"No," Dean said in a low voice.

"How did you avoid the topic?"

"Simple, I avoided them," he shrugged.

The man stopped writing and looked at Dean, frowning. "You have not been in contact with your family for over five years?" Dean almost detected concern coming from the not-psychiatrist.

"Nope," he provided, shrugging again.

"Do you plan to?"

Dean hesitated. It was a sore topic in his life, amongst many others of course, but this one he avoided thinking about ever since he was approached for the mission. Now that everything was over, he just wanted to call them and tell them he's alright, meet with his brother and hug him tight. But he would prefer to wait until he was settled down and not moving from one safe place to another. Actually, he even wanted to wait until he was officially back on the force.

"I don't know…" he answered, looking away from the man. "I'll see how things go."

The man kept silent for a few seconds before asking another question. "Have they tried to call you during your mission?"

"Yeah, they did," Dean sighed. "They called me, called the precinct, filed a missing person report."

He let out a laugh. "My buddy Benny, he err-" he hesitated, rubbing once again his hands on his jeans, eyes looking over the man's desk. "He was my handler and he told me it got ugly."

The man nodded, encouraging Dean to continue his story.

"So he came up with the weirdest story, telling my parents that I had met some Russian stripper and followed her back to Moscow or whatever city over there."

He let out another laugh. "I wish I had seen my brother's face when he learned that. I'm sure it was worth a million bucks!"

He returned his attention on the man in front of him. "But it did the trick. They just accepted that I abandoned them to elope with some chick. At some point they stopped looking. That was for the best."

Dean watched the man continue writing in the notebook, his face serious and emotionless. Dean had been expecting some kind of reaction to the story. _Well,_ he thought, _that's how professionals handle people like me._

"You got other questions, Doc?" he asked.

"Not a doctor. And yes, several others. Have you found accommodation yet?"

"No, not just yet. I'm still moved around. You know. Safety reasons."

The man nodded once then focused on his notebook.

"Are you currently romantically involved with a person?"

"Nope, free as a bird!"

"Were you romantically involved with someone during your mission?"

"That's classified, sorry, can't answer."

Dean saw the man squint, clearly doubting his statement, but to his relief, did not press any further.

"How were you recruited for the mission?"

Dean let out a long, loud sigh. He looked up to the ceiling, trying to remember.

"You want the short or the long version?" he finally asked after several seconds of silence.

The man gestured towards Dean. "As you wish."

Dean chuckled. Ever since "The Princess Bride" he just couldn't take anyone saying this seriously. "Weeeell… that was five years ago. A bit more actually. I was about to finish the Academy when I was approached by Benny and Captain Singer. They told me about the project, about the risks of course. They gave me a few days to think about it and I accepted the offer. It went on pretty quickly. My record got sealed, Benny got to be my handler and Captain Singer was in charge of reviewing my reports."

The man wrote everything down in his notebook, nodding here and there to what Dean told him.

"Were you aware the mission would last five years?"

"Nope!" Dean laughed. "It was supposed to be one year at most. But considering the gang trusted me more and more and I got higher in the ranks, we kept going until we could catch that Scottish son of a bitch."

"How about Benny Lafitte?"

"What about him?" Dean asked, frowning a little.

"Are you romantically involved with Benny Lafitte?"

"What? What's that for a question? No! He's a married guy! Your questions are ridiculous!" Dean exclaimed, feeling anger rise in his chest.

"My apologies. May we move on?" he answered while writing down. "What is your relationship with Captain Robert Singer?"

"Well, he's my captain, my boss. He's really a good guy, helped me out a lot. Really someone you can count on."

Dean tried manage his unease. He looked at the man and allowed himself to observe him a little more in detail. Did that guy really wear a crooked tie? Didn't he notice?

"Hey, Doc. Is this gonna take long?" he asked, feeling on edge. His leg started to get restless.

The man looked at his watch. "Not a doctor. And as a matter of fact, we're done for today."

"Cool, so can I get the paper? Then I'll be on my way, okay?"

"I am afraid you cannot. This is only the first step of evaluation. You understand that your mission was exceptional in its length and difficulty, hence it requires a bit more than just 30 minutes of chatting before I can officially hand over my approval." the man replied in the same monotonous voice.

Dean couldn't believe his ears. "You're joking, right? Is this some sort of bad joke?"

"I'm afraid not. I suggest we meet again in two days. Unless you prefer once a week?" he asked with that gravelly voice of his.

"Do I even have a say in this?"

"You can choose how many times we meet: twice a week or once a week."

Dean clenched his fists against his thighs. He felt that same anger rise again from deep within him. "This is crap. Utter bull crap!"

"I am sorry but if you want to go back to the force, it is the only choice I can offer you."

Dean couldn't take it anymore. What did that guy even know? _Clueless high-educated jerk_ , he thought. He stood up and faced the man.

"You're not helping, Doc," he said menacingly. "I need that piece of paper signed!"

"Not a doctor. And you will get it," he replied, without even flinching, "just not today, just not now. But you'll get there." He looked at Dean straight in the eyes. "So what is it going to be? Twice or once a week?"

Dean kept silent for a few seconds, his teeth gritting. He could not believe that sheer arrogance. Dean's whole future depended on that paper and that man was standing in the way. He clenched his fists and tried to regain control of his emotions. Now was not the time to deck that asshole. Not yet anyway.

"Once," he finally answered. With one swift movement, he turned around. "No need to show me the way out!" he shouted while opening the door.

"I'll see you next week, same time, Mr. Winchester!" he heard once he reached the reception.

"Let's go Benny, before I break his nose!"

Dean did not wait for his friend's answer and left the office, furious.

(***)

The next Wednesday, Benny and Dean were en route to the office. Exactly one week had passed and for Dean, it had been hell on earth. He had had to do tons of paperwork, review all his notes, statements and witness testimonies about the Crowley organization. The trial was being prepared and, despite the fact that everybody was 99% sure all the bad guys were put away, they still needed to double-check, triple-check the data. And there was an incredible amount of data. But that actually helped Dean a bit. He did not remain inactive during his hiding in the safe-house, which was good, all things considered.

Benny and Dean had been driving for about fifteen minutes and all they had talked about was Dean's behavior last week, how unhelpful he was and that it was basically his fault he did not get the signature.

"Brother," he said. "You gotta understand that this guy is the only thing standing between you and your desk at the precinct."

"I know…" Dean sighed. "I was a total dick."

"You kinda were," Benny agreed.

Dean gave him a sideways glance. "Something was off about him. He kept asking personal questions or - or stupid questions, you know?"

Benny took his eyes off the road for a few seconds, looking at Dean instead, a little smirk on the lips.

"Or nothing was off," he finally said, focusing on the road again, "and you just got angry because you didn't get what you wanted."

"What? No! Of course not!"

"You know, if you can't keep your anger in check, you just prove him right to not sign the paper."

"So you're on his side? Thanks a lot Benny!" Dean said, crossing his arms and feeling a little bit betrayed by his best friend.

"Dean…"

"So nice and supportive of you!" He insisted.

"Come on, Brother…"

Dean let out a sigh. "Sorry. I know, you're right. I'll work on my anger management issues."

"Good. I know that's what saved your life a few times but you gotta keep yourself in check."

"I will."

They drove in comfortable silence until they reached the office. Benny waited in the same chair next to the secretary.

As soon as Dean entered the office, the man looked up and immediately stood. Dean noticed he was still wearing that ugly crooked blue tie. It looked ridiculous on him.

The man extended his hand.

"Mr. Winchester, right on time," he said, voice deep and face as serious as last week.

Willing to be at his best, Dean took his hand and shook it.

"Hey, Doc?"

"Still not a Doctor, Mr. Winchester," he replied, his eyes locked on Dean's.

Suddenly, Dean felt an urge to walk away. How could someone have such piercing blue eyes? Something was really off with that not-Doctor.

"Yeah, right… errr… I wanted to apologize for last week," he managed to say. "And if that's okay with you, start fresh?"

The man nodded and Dean felt it was a win for his cause.

"You don't have to apologize, I've faced worse. But if you would feel more comfortable, we can do that."

"That would be a start?" Dean said. "Mister..?"

"Novak. Castiel Novak."

"Not Doctor Novak, then?" Dean joked.

"Indeed not. You can call me Castiel if that helps."

Dean hesitated. "I can try."

Castiel nodded and let go of Dean's hand. He hadn't even realized he had been holding his hand for this long.

He looked away and went to sit on the armchair. Castiel followed him a few seconds later with a pen and the same notebook. He flipped several pages, crossed his legs and started writing.

"Whenever you're ready, Mr. Winchester."

"Dean," he corrected. "If I'm going to call you Castiel, please call me Dean. I'm not into formalities so…"

"Fair enough, Dean. Are you ready?"

Dean exhaled loudly, wiped his hands on his jeans. He did not feel ready. Not one bit. But he had no choice and needed to play nice. He gathered his thoughts then looked back at Castiel.

"Ready." he announced.

Castiel nodded.

"Have you found a new accommodation?"

"No, I'm still moved around, but next week or the week after, I should be able to find an apartment."

Just like the previous week, Castiel wrote all information down, making some annotations in the margins and keeping silent, not making any comment on whatever Dean told him.

"Have you contacted your family?"

"No, not yet. I want to settle down first." Dean replied, focusing on his breathing. He needed to remain as calm as possible.

 _Scribble, scribble._

"Have you met anyone from your precinct? Captain Singer? Other colleagues?"

"Yes, Captain Singer once."

 _Scribble, scribble._

"We, err… we had a discussion about you actually," Dean felt obliged to continue.

"Really?" Castiel asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah, he literally blasted me for not playing nice with you!" Dean explained as he let out a laugh.

 _Scribble, scribble._

That was not the reaction Dean had hoped to get.

"Hence your apologies," Castiel commented.

"He and Benny were right," Dean continued. He saw Castiel raise his head from his notebook and look at him with those penetrating blue eyes.

"I need to control myself," he explained. "I'm not a very social guy, you know?" He shrugged, silent for several seconds. "I need to work on that." he admitted.

For the first time, Castiel put his pen down, letting it rest on the notebook. He frowned, making Dean uncomfortable.

"What are you trying to say, Dean?"

"Well… you know!" Dean mumbled, wiping his hands once more then making awkward gestures.

"Not really, no."

"After five years in the mob, my err…" he searched for the words. "My people skills are rusty."

Castiel's frown deepened, if it was even possible.

"I should not comment on your replies, Dean but…" he held up his hands "your ' _people skills'_ " he quoted with two fingers "are not _rusty,'_ " he quoted again.

"Then how do you explain my behavior last week? I was being a dick!" Dean said, raising his voice.

Castiel hesitated, eyes still locked on Dean. Time seemed to slow around them as they stared at each other. Finally, Castiel grabbed his pen. "We'll discuss this later," he told Dean. "Let's go back to some other questions I have for you." He looked down on his notebook. "When did you decide to become an officer of the law?"

Dean exhaled, not realizing he was holding air for so long. He allowed himself a few seconds to settle, hating the uncomfortable feeling that was lingering after their exchange.

"When I was a kid," he managed to reply. "Home invasion when I was… four? I guess?"

"What happened?"

"Short or long version?"

"As you wish."

"You'll need to stop using that sentence, Cas!"

"Why?" Castiel asked, looking up from his notebook and showing more incomprehension than surprise at the use of the nickname.

"Never mind." Dean chastised himself for his uncooperative mouth. "Apparently the guy managed to enter the house in Sammy's nursery because the window wasn't closed. My Mom caught him, there was a fight, I ran to the room and my dad put my baby brother in my arms, told me to run outside. I remember my Mom lying on the floor. Thought she was dead. Dad tried to chase the guy down but he was never caught."

"How old was your brother?"

"Sammy? Sam… he was six months old, something like that."

Painful memories that Dean really did not want to think about. He forced himself to focus on the here and now.

"And you carried him outside the house all by yourself?"

"Yep! Hey, I'm the big brother! It's my job to keep my baby brother safe!"

Castiel wrote the whole story down.

"How was your mother?"

"She was knocked out. Nothing serious. She had nightmares after that, though. Dad installed some security on the windows and all. We couldn't afford a proper alarm system, with my dad's mechanic income, you know."

"That's when you decided to…"

"Become a cop, yeah." Dean interrupted Castiel. "To help people, so it wouldn't happen to anyone else."

Castiel nodded and continued to scribble on the notebook.

"When did you join the academy?"

"When I was twenty-four… or twenty-five, something like that."

"What did you do before joining?"

"I got small jobs, here and there, helped my dad at the garage. It helped pay the bills… Sam's college…"

"Didn't you want to pursue another career? Maybe go to university?" Castiel asked, glancing up at Dean who chuckled.

"Nah! That's not for me! I'm not the standard university-academic-diplomas kind of guy!" he grinned.

"Doesn't that bother you?" Castiel asked.

Dean's smile fell. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. He frowned.

"I never thought about it," he admitted "But I guess I'm more of a hands-on kind of guy." He looked at the man writing in front of him. "You sure you're not a shrink?"

"Still not a psychiatrist, nor a doctor, Dean."

"Your questions are kinda shrink-y," Dean observed.

"That's my job, asking questions, analyzing the answer, detecting the lies." Castiel clarified with what Dean thought was a smile.

"So like a mentalist?"

"More or less."

"You mean, you'll know when… if I lie?" Dean asked, a little hesitant.

"Yes, Dean."

"Cool…" he let out automatically. Castiel was starting to impress him. He really must be something if the force commissioned him to testify on his civil rehabilitation. He really should be more careful about his answers. However, today's session what going on alright. There was no palpable tension like last week. Castiel seemed more relaxed and so was he. Benny would be happy to learn things were finally moving in the right direction. Maybe he could ask about the paper? Or was it too soon?

Castiel started to speak, bringing Dean back to reality. "I understand you're still under protection?"

"That's correct."

"How do you spend your days?"

Dean shrugged. "Depends. Since last week we're reviewing all the files, checking if we missed something. It's a lot of work, but necessary."

"If you could do anything, right now, no consequences whatsoever, what would you do?"

Dean let out a loud laugh, making Castiel's head shoot straight up, eyes opened wide. "What's that for a question? What would you do if you were a billionaire?" he continued laughing. "That's unexpected from you!"

Castiel tilted his head to the side, squinting at Dean. "Every question matters, Dean."

"Alright, alright! Don't get your panties in a twist, I'll answer!" he replied, still smiling at the strange question. He took a deep breath and thought about his answer. He knew exactly what he wanted to do, but admitting it out loud was unacceptable. Once again, it was a sore topic he wanted to avoid at any cost. "I'll grab a burger at the Roadhouse then go watch a movie. And if I'm on a roll, I'd get a six-pack, go home and watch reruns of Dr. Sexy M.D." He shook his head, smiling. "Yeah, that'd be awesome."

Dean happily noticed Castiel wrote everything down, not showing any sign of disbelief.

"Shouldn't you use a recorder or something?" Dean suggested. "Would be easier than writing down."

Castiel looked at Dean. "Are you trying to suggest I am doing my job incorrectly?" he asked.

"What? No! Of course not! Geez, it was just small talk!"

"I know, Dean, it was a joke." Castiel explained with a half-smirk on the lips.

Dean remained speechless for the second it took him to gather his usual quirky self.

"Oh… right. Well, don't switch careers, Cas! Never become a humorist!"

"So I've been told," Castiel replied, still smirking.

That answer took Dean aback. He didn't think about it because Castiel seemed cold, distant and overly-serious, but he surely must have a family, friends, maybe a wife and kids.

Suddenly he looked less intimidating, more human than the writing-robot he appeared to be.

"One last question before I let you go," Castiel said. "Apart from your immediate family, parents and brother, do you have anyone you call friend? Or even family maybe?"

Dean hesitated, the question too close to that taboo topic again. He decided to tell the truth, avoiding just a tiny part. "Well there's Benny. He really got my back more times than I can count. And Captain Singer who's like this weird uncle you don't see often but you know he'll help you bury a body. Figuratively of course!"

"Or course," Castiel repeated as he scribbled on the notebook.

Dean waited patiently for Castiel to finish, looking around the office, which was absolutely immaculate.

That was the kind of office Dean imagined existing in New York, all very high-class and heavenly, where the smallest detail was thought about for month. Should the orchid sit like this or be turned 45° to the right? He just couldn't imagine Castiel doing all the work. It just didn't seem like his style. So someone had to do it. Which meant Castiel had to pay the person. Which meant he was freaking rich! So not only must he have a diploma from Heaven City with Honors (of course!), to do a God-knows-what job so complicated there isn't even a name for it, and he must be filthy rich.

Suddenly, Dean felt inadequate. Being the center of attention of such a person, being on his high horse and a dick last week, that didn't sit well with him.

He was being judged by someone who was not only successful in his life, but who was rich and had clean hands, all the opposite of what Dean was. How would someone like this judge Dean? Decide whether or not he was suited to go back to a civilian life?

Dean immediately realized where his thoughts were going and jumped to a conclusion. He was hopeless. No way in Hell he would get that damn paper signed. Embarrassed, he started fidgeting on his seat, wanting to leave as soon as possible.

Castiel must have sensed his change of heart. He gave Dean a questioning look. Dean remained silent.

"I guess we reached the end of today's session," Castiel said, getting the message. "We'll meet again next week."

"Sure!" Dean replied as he stood from his armchair. "See you next week!"

Before Castiel could add another word, Dean bolted out of the office, Benny following him shortly after.

(***)

Dean looked at Benny from the window of his apartment. They stashed him in what felt more like a small studio than a real apartment. His bed was one meter away from the kitchen corner. But that was enough for him.

His friend had just dropped by this Monday afternoon and was now on his way to work. Dean watched him cross the street, enter his car, then drive away. He clenched his fist. In his right hand, a small piece of paper with numbers written on it. Benny had tried to find a way to cheer him up and came up with this. Dean wasn't sure it would improve his mood but it would occupy him now that most administrative work was completed.

He walked to his bed and sat down. He gathered his thoughts and tried to remain as calm as possible while dialing the numbers on his cell phone.

As soon as he heard the dial tone, he felt his heart beat faster and stronger. He suddenly felt like it was a stupid idea and was about to hang up when he heard his voice.

"Hello?"

His mouth went dry, his hands sweaty. He hadn't heard that voice in over five years.

"Hello? Who's there?"

"Heya Sammy." He managed to articulate after clearing his throat.

Several seconds passed before Sam spoke again.

"Dean?"

"Yes."

"It's you? It's really you?"

"The one and only!" Dean laughed.

"Wow! That's just… wow! I…" Sam hesitated. "I wasn't expecting to hear from you ever again."

 _That hurts_ , Dean thought.

"Yeah…" he sighed. "I figured that much."

"Wait, I'm glad you're calling! Really!" Sam blurted out.

Dean started to regret the call. The conversation was so awkward. He should have thought about it before calling his brother, prepare his speech! But no, of course not, he was Dean freaking Winchester, acting on instinct, never thinking twice!

"You, err…" Sam continued. "Are you back in the US or still in Ukraine?"

"I thought she was Russian," Dean uttered with a laugh, jumping on jokes as if they were his life-jackets.

"So it was a lie!" Sam shouted. "There was no stripper, right?"

"Yeah, no stripper involved," Dean admitted. "You didn't believe it, did you?"

"Nah. That just wasn't you." Sam replied.

"Did Mom and Dad believe it?" Dean asked.

"Mom, no. She thought you got involved with bad people and had to run away for your safety."

"Haha, that's very James Bond!"

"Tell me about it!" Sam laughed.

Hearing his laugh immediately made Dean feel better. Slowly, he found his words, remembering what it was like to talk to his nerdy baby brother, how nice it felt. Damn he missed him!

"But Dad… that was something else. He was furious. But you can remember, he had moments like that…"

Dean nodded though Sam couldn't see him. "Yeah, yeah… I remember… I'm sorry."

"Hum… where are you now?"

"I'm… I'm good now!"

"Dean, that's… that's not what I asked."

"I know. I'll tell you everything soon, I promise."

"You better, jerk!"

Dean burst out laughing.

"Bitch!" he immediately countered. "And you?" he added once he calmed down. "How are you doing? How have you been? Tell me!"

"Well," Sam sighed. "There's a lot to tell, I don't even know where to start! You gotta be more specific, man."

"I don't know! You married or something?"

"Haha! No, not really. It's kinda out of question for now. But I was engaged for a while."

"Wow! Okay, big news! What happened?"

"It didn't work out. Jess and I were really young and after a while we realized we weren't meant to grow old together. So yeah… that's that. Now I'm seeing someone and things are looking good."

"That's really nice to hear, Sammy. I'm really happy for you!"

"Thanks Dean."

A few seconds passed without either of them talking.

"Hum, Dean? I'm sorry man but I have an important meeting coming up and-"

"No, yeah, sure," Dean cut him. "I understand! No worries! Go get 'em tiger!"

Sam scoffed, which made Dean smile. His mind was now filled of sweet childhood memories where he made his baby brother laugh, when they would do reckless things and then get scolded by their Mom.

"Can I call you back? The number is hidden but if you give me your mobile I can call you back later today."

"It's… I can't, I'm sorry. But I'll call you back soon! I promise! It's just… I… yeah… I can't."

"Alright…" Sam's voice came out colder, making Dean flinch. "Don't wait for another five years to call, then."

"I promise! I won't! I'll call you soon."

"Okay. Bye Dean."

"Take care, Sammy," he said before hanging up.

The call left him exhausted, happy and sad at the same time. He was thrilled to have talked with Sam again, hearing his voice after so long was everything he needed. However hearing that he got engaged, then broke up, that he had to deal with all this without Dean being there to help him through… he felt terrible. The mission had been his priority. He had to deal with whatever was on his plate, no strings attached, no family to worry about. When he had accepted to go undercover, the deal was that neither Captain Singer nor Benny would mention his family, ever. He had to play his part knowing his parents and Sam were safe. He knew very well he wouldn't be able to focus on the job if he worried about them. So he decided to live in a big lie where they were all well and perfectly fine without him in their lives. It worked perfectly for five years!

He let himself fall onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. Well, that was something he could discuss next Wednesday with not-a-Doctor Castiel Novak.

(***)

"How are you, Dean?" Castiel asked.

Dean had not paid really much attention to his voice, but now that he noticed, how could someone have such a growling voice? Was he even human? If his business didn't pan out, he really should consider phone sex. People would pay a bunch to listen to such a voice, Dean was sure of it.

"Dean?" Castiel repeated, slightly frowning.

"Uh yeah, good! I'm good," Dean replied hastily. "Really good actually."

"Did something happen?"

"Yes. Benny told me earlier today that I'm allowed to look for my own accommodation. I'll have my own apartment soon. I'm hoping next week or so. Then I can get my stuff back."

"I'm glad to hear it, Dean."

"To make it perfect, I'd just need a signature from you," Dean said, a smirk on his lips.

Castiel looked at him. When he saw Dean's smile, his features soften a little. Dean swore he saw a grin, but it disappeared almost immediately.

"You're almost there, Dean."

"I better hope so!" Dean laughed. "And there's something else."

"Yes?" Castiel asked, his full attention on Dean.

"I called my brother last Monday," he admitted.

For the first time, Dean witnessed a full-on smile from Castiel, teeth showing, the whole nine yards, which startled him a bit. He cleared his throat, trying to gather his thoughts.

"How did it go?" Castiel asked as Dean kept silent.

"It went good. Great actually. There was no scream or insult, which is a big win in my opinion."

Castiel nodded, encouraging Dean to continue.

"We talked a bit, not for long though. I will call him back, maybe next week."

"Maybe?" Castiel asked, his focus back on the notebook.

"Probably." Dean corrected. "Surely!" he finally said with assurance.

"Getting in touch with your family and friends will help you, Dean," Castiel commented. "Even if things don't work out the way you plan, you're moving forward which is important."

Dean scoffed. "If you say so."

"Will you contact your old friends anytime soon?"

"My friends? You mean the ones before the mission?"

Castiel nodded.

"No. My family comes first. I'll see how things go before making a move."

"What else happened this week?" Castiel asked, his face serious again.

Dean sighed. "Don't you think a lot happened already?" he joked. "But if you want to know, I already started looking for an apartment. I can't afford much but at least I'll settle for more than a week!"

"Did you move around a lot during your mission?"

"At the beginning, yes. But I managed to stay at one place for a while, which was nice… I guess." He answered, rubbing his palms on his thighs. "You know I cannot tell you much," he explained, "because of safety and such."

"Of course, Dean." Castiel replied. "Don't worry, I won't ask where you stayed or who you stayed with."

Dean frowned and was about to ask Castiel what he meant by this, but he managed to cut him off. "During your mission, did you make any friends?"

He hesitated a few seconds before answering. "I had to. For these people to trust me, I had to make myself valuable and trustworthy. It didn't happen overnight, you know? It took time."

"Anyone ever suspected you were part of the Police Force?"

Dean let out a loud laugh. "If anyone would've had suspicions, I'd be in a box six feet underground by now!"

"Of course." Castiel had an apologetic smile. "During your mission, did you ever had to act against your will?"

Dean frowned and kept silent. His hands stopped moving but remained on his thighs. He examined Castiel's face but saw nothing more than professional interest. He didn't seem judgmental either which would be a deal breaker for him.

"You have reports," he finally told Castiel. "I'm sure everything I ever did is clearly detailed in there."

Castiel shook his head. "I cannot tell you the content of the reports which were handed to me, but I can assure you that none of your emotions or thoughts were provided." He looked up to Dean. "It's as if you kept your thoughts personal…"

Dean glared at Castiel. "Was that…" he paused. "Was that a joke?" he wondered.

"Yes, Dean," he answered, smiling with a corner of his mouth. "Or rather a poor attempt at it."

"Well… not comedy gold, but better than last time!" Dean grinned. "Keep trying, you'll get there!"

Castiel chuckled. "Thank you, Dean."

"Might even happen before I get my damn paper signed!" Dean continued.

"Dean-" Castiel started with an eye roll before Dean interrupted him.

"Hey, if you can use sarcasm as comic relief, so can I!" he retorted.

Castiel chuckled, to Dean's surprise and possibly wonder. "Fair enough!" he regained his stern façade. "I still require an answer from you, Dean."

He nodded, all serious again. "It happened more than you can possibly imagine. I had to hurt people. Sometimes even kill. To maintain my cover, I had to show them I could do it." He looked down at the carpet. "Not my proudest moments," he added before staring at Castiel. "Can we change the subject?"

"Would you like to?"

"Yes," Dean immediately answered, his voice grave.

"Alright," Castiel replied. "What do you do to clear your head?"

"Wow, that's a radical change of direction!" he said, surprised.

Castiel gazed at Dean. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable. Well, more than I have to."

"Yeah, thanks!" Dean retorted sarcastically. He looked at Castiel, who did not seem amused. "Alright, usually I would watch a movie, a classic like Star Wars or Indiana Jones. Or go out to a bar, play some pool, grab a bite. Nothing fancy."

"Have you been able to do any of these activities since your mission ended?"

"No, didn't have time. I watch some TV shows back at the hideout. Do you know Dr. Sexy M.D.?"

"You already mentioned that show," Castiel replied. "But I am not familiar with it, I'm sorry. You really enjoy it?"

"I don't know…" Dean bowed his head a little. "It is compelling."

"Tell me more about it," Castiel asked, taking Dean aback.

"Really? I mean, are you sure? Is it part of the therapy?" Dean asked, hesitant.

"This is not a therapy, Dean. I am not a psychiatrist, nor a doctor," Castiel explained. "It's a discussion between you and me, which will allow me to better assess your reintegration in the Police Force and the civilian society."

"And that goes by talking about Dr. Sexy M.D.?" Dean wondered, a little sarcastically.

"As this show helps you relax, then yes."

Dean laughed, sitting a bit straighter. "Get ready, then!"

He explained, in great detail, the complicated relationships between the different characters and what made Dr. Sexy sexy. After ten minutes of monologue, Castiel finally interrupted him.

"I think I understood the main story line, thank you Dean."

"Wait, you should know about Dr. Piccolo's story!"

Castiel let out a small laugh. "For next week, then."

Dean smiled, nodding. "Alright!"

They shook hands, exchanged their goodbyes, then Dean left to find Benny who was waiting for him in the lobby in his usual seat. Before Dean could say anything, Benny looked at him, then smiled. _Yeah, I'm that obvious_ , Dean thought.

(***)

Dean signed the last page of the lease and gave it back to the realtor. He thanked him, checked if the papers were in order, gave a copy back to Dean, and put the rest in his wallet. He shook Dean's hand and thanked him once again.

Once alone in his apartment, Dean took a look around, already planning how he would arrange the place with his furniture. He remembered he stored a bed, possibly some shelves, books and CDs for sure, but he couldn't think of anything else. Everything had been locked in a storage unit under a false identity and now he wasn't even sure what he'd find.

He would probably need Benny's help to move his stuff in the apartment. Benny would most likely swear a lot knowing Dean now lived on the fourth floor, but ultimately, he would agree and help.

Thankfully, the place was rather small. Only one bedroom, small but functional bathroom and kitchen, small living room, Dean would not spend a lot of time arranging. Just the necessities would suffice.

Now that he had completed his first important task of the week, he needed to complete the second one: getting his own personal mobile phone.

He locked the front door and pocketed his keys with a sense of accomplishment he hadn't felt in a long time. It was as if the train had left the station and for once he was on board, sitting next to the widow and enjoying the view. He definitely had to tell not-Doctor Castiel about his achievements!

Dean then hurried down the street until he reached a small electronics shop. He bought a burner phone he would use for the time being. Once everything was settled down, he would buy a better phone and coverage. But for now, it was enough.

He went to the nearest supermarket which was, luckily, only a few hundred meters away from his building. He bought the bare minimum: frozen pizza, cheese, chips and a six-pack. Once his shopping done, he headed back to his new home.

He put the pizza in the freezer, the beer and cheese in the fridge and the chips in the cupboard where, seeing all the dust, he realized he forgot to buy a sponge and cleaning products. But that could wait, he had another task he just couldn't wait to complete.

He took the phone out of its box, added the sim card, plugged the phone to recharge and sat down on the floor while searching for Sam's number. Once he found it, he dialed and put the phone on his ear. He didn't wait long before Sam answered.

"Heya Sammy!" he said cheerfully.

"Dean! You actually did call back!" Sam answered, a smile in his voice.

"Of course I did! How are you doing?"

"Good, good. And you?"

"Good! Excellent actually!" Dean answered, enthusiastic. He couldn't wait to tell Sam everything he went through, but it was a bit early. "I actually got my own place just… what… fifteen minutes ago?"

"Woah, you bought a house?!" Sam asked.

"What? No! I rent an apartment! How on earth will I find money to buy a house?" Dean laughed. "It's a small apartment, which I rent."

"Oh…" Sam sounded a bit disappointed. "Well, that's great Dean! Can you tell me more?"

Dean suddenly realized how silly he must sound to his brother after all this time. He did not know that getting his own place was a big achievement. He decided to steer the conversation to the important topic he wanted to discuss with Sam.

"Yeah! It's not big…. Small actually. But I'm sure my little brother would fit in!"

Sam kept silent for a few seconds before managing to articulate "Errrr… okay?"

Immediately, Dean felt a knot in his stomach. "Too soon?" Dean asked, worried about the rejection that would inevitably follow.

"Yeah… no… I mean, I don't even have your phone number and-"

"I have one!" Dean interrupted "You have the caller ID option? Do you see a number?"

"Huh… let me check…" Dean heard some rubbing. "Okay, got it." Sam said.

"Great! That's my phone number for now. It will probably change in a few weeks, but you can always call me."

"Alright, thanks Dean. But I don't even know where you live?"

"Chicago. But if that's too far for you, I can come down and see you? What'd'ya say? You're still in Stanford, right?"

"San Jose actually, but… are you sure it's a good idea? I mean, we can talk over the phone and see how things go?"

Dean sighed. "Look, I'm trying real hard here."

He inadvertently banged the back of his head on the wall. He swore between his teeth. "Look Sammy, I want to see you and… and tell you everything that happened, but I can't do it over the phone. It'll take too long and… come on, it's been five years! Can you blame me to want to see my little brother?"

"Dean, it's… I have a life here. I cannot just take off and leave everything behind."

"Just for a few days!" Dean begged. "A weekend! And you know what? Why don't you bring your special someone with you, so you won't feel alone in case you punch me in the face and run back to San Jose?"

"Why would I punch you in the face?"

"Come on! Hypothetically!"

Sam let out a long sigh. "I'll see what I can do. But I'll come alone. I don't think it's a good time to introduce you to… well, it's a bit early."

"In case I disappear for another five years, is that what you mean?" Dean asked. Sam did not answer and Dean clearly understood what it meant. "Yeah, I can't blame you," he conceded. "How soon _can_ you come? No pressure or anything!"

"Yeah, of course. I don't know… maybe in two weeks? I'll try to take my Monday off and catch a red eye flight."

"That'd be great!" Dean felt happier than ever. "That'd be freaking awesome! Just let me know and I'll pick you up at the airport! And I'll get a nice comfy couch for you! I'll make sure you feel at home!"

Sam laughed. "Since when have you become a perfect little housewife?"

"Hey, don't laugh! I can cook a mean burger if you wanna try!" Dean teased.

"Sure, why not!"

"Awesome! Hey err… Sammy? One other thing. Did you tell Mom and Dad I called you?"

Sam went silent. "No, I haven't," he finally admitted. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to call them or anything… so I suppose you haven't told them anything?"

"No, not yet. I was kinda counting on you?"

"Dean… that, I can't. You have no idea how difficult these years were. I mean… Mom regularly checked for John Does at the morgue."

"She-what now?" Dean couldn't believe his ears.

"Yeah… that's how screwed up that made us. After a while, the guy at the morgue in Lawrence only called Mom when he got a body matching your description."

"Wow… that's…"

"Yes Dean," Sam continued, his tone hard. "Like I said, these years were difficult for us."

"I'm sorry, Sam. I really am…"

"I'm sure you are." The sarcasm leaked out of Sam's voice, making Dean extremely nervous.

"I didn't think I would hurt you so bad…"

"You didn't THINK?" Sam shouted. "Jeez Dean, disappearing for five years, I wonder what you thought about! Certainly not your own damn family, that's for sure!"

When Sam stopped shouting, Dean could only hear ragged breathing. He suddenly felt terribly guilty and stupid. How could he even think that his relationship with Sam would be so easily repaired? That he would forgive him in the blink of an eye? Of course not. Dean needed to make amends and take responsibility for his actions. He hurt the ones he loved most.

"I'm sorry…" was all he could say.

Silence fell between them. Thick and heavy. No one talked for long seconds until Dean finally broke down. "I really am, Sammy. You have all the rights to be angry at me. But I promise, I'll fix this."

"Whatever, Dean…" Sam replied in a low voice.

"Will you still try to come over?" he asked. "I know I'm asking a lot, but just this once, take a leap of faith and let's meet! Can you do that?"

He heard his brother sigh. "I'll try. I'll let you know, okay?"

"Yeah! Great! Thank you Sammy!"

"Do you really have to call me that? Sammy is a chubby twelve year old. I'm twenty-seven now."

"Old habits die hard!" Dean answered, a bit more cheerful than what he really felt.

"Riiight… Okay Dean, I gotta go. I'll let you know," he repeated. "Bye Dean."

"Bye Sammy."

The line went silent.

Dean ran a hand through his short blond hair. He felt nauseous. He really had miscalculated the risks his absence would cause to his own family. He had been so damn sure they would have been better off him.

How could he have possibly have known it would have been difficult for them? After all, Sam was the genius of the family, the better and smarter sibling. His Dad, John Winchester, had make it very clear he was disappointed in Dean when he told them he would join the Police Force. John thought only useless people would enroll. Many times he tried to persuade Dean to choose a different path, like joining the Army, or working at the garage with him, or even try engineering.

But Dean had made his choice and wanted to make his parents proud. He worked his ass off in the Academy, got the best scores, which led to him being noticed by the Captain of the precinct he was to integrate.

At that time, he thought that Sam would accomplish everything their parents ever dreamed of, he would make them proud in a way Dean knew he never could.

And now…

He banged his head against the wall until it hurt so badly he had to stop. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!" he kept on repeating.

He held his phone at eye level. He wanted to call the not-Doctor and tell him everything that had happened, but he did not have his phone number. He would have to wait until next Wednesday and surely marinate in a stew of self-pity.

He thought that maybe he should go out and get drunk.

Instead, he got up, took a beer from the fridge, sat back down at the same place, opened the bottle and starting drinking, eyes fixed on the wall in front of him.


	2. Chapter 2

Benny glanced at Dean, fists on his hips. "On which did you say you lived now?" he asked.

"Fourth," Dean answered, looking at the storage box containing all his furniture in front of them.

"How many of your friends are gonna help us?"

"None."

"Right…"

"Thanks Benny."

"Always happy to help, brother."

Benny went back and drove his pick-up at the closest from the storage unit as possible, while Dean started to unstack all the cardboard boxes. After only thirty minutes, the car was packed and they were ready to drive to Dean's apartment.

They soon realized the amount of stuff in the storage unit was actually easy to move, for the exception of Dean's bed frame, mattress and couch. Most of the boxes were half-empty and filled with clothes. Some contained a few books, some photo albums, vinyl records and CDs. Nothing fancy. They even found an old CRT television that Dean decided to keep in case it still worked.

Dean walked to the passenger side while Benny took the seat behind the wheel. Once Dean locked his safety belt, Benny started the pick-up and they began their drive back to Chicago.

It took them about two hours to reach Dean's apartment. Luckily, they found a parking spot not far which allowed them to unload and put everything down at the bottom of the stairs. An old lady gave them the stink-eye when she tried to reach for the stairs, walking between all of Dean's boxes with some difficulties. Of course, Benny and Dean hurried to help her out and she eventually thanked them then climbed slowly to her apartment.

Carrying the cardboard boxes was easy and the task completed in a short amount of time. However with the bed frame and the couch, they had to come up with a solution to manage to get them around the stairs corners. It took several attempts but they finally reached the fourth floor. The bed frame and mattress were immediately installed in Dean's bedroom, the couch went against the wall in the living room, the television was placed on top of a cardboard box as there was no cabinet in the furniture. The vinyl record player was immediately plugged next to a window, on the right side of the couch so it would be easily accessible.

As soon as most of the boxes were emptied, Benny and Dean sat down on the couch, a beer in hand, proud of their achievement of the day.

"Thanks buddy," Dean said after gulping down half of his beer. "I never would have managed this without you!"

"You know you'll owe me now, brother," Benny commented with a smirk, looking at Dean.

"Course! You name it!"

"Once you're reintegrated, I want a full dinner, hamburger, beer and dessert. The whole nine yards!"

Dean let out a laugh. "You got it!" He clinked his bottle to Benny's. "Might take a while though."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Benny replied, leaning a bit towards Dean. "You might join sooner than you think."

"What? You got some info and didn't tell me?"

Benny let out a laugh that sounded like a growl. "No, of course not. It's just a gut feeling."

"Well then… if that isn't a 100% trusted source, I don't know what is!" Dean retorted with a wink.

"You'll see! You'll tell me and you know what I'm gonna say?"

"Told you so?" Dean guessed.

"Told you so! Exactly! That's all a little prick like you deserves!" Benny burst out laughing, immediately followed by Dean.

"If you're right, then yeah, I deserved it!" Dean replied, a huge smile on his lips. "How about we make a bet. I say I won't reintegrate before… errr… two month or more!"

"Okay. And I say one month. No, make it three weeks, tops!"

"So what, three weeks or less?"

"Yep!" Benny confirmed. He held out his hand. "And if I win, dinner again."

"Okay! And if I win, dinner and you'll help me buy a new couch," Dean counteroffered.

"Hey, that's not fair! Then I want… errr… dinner and a movie. Deal?" Benny suggested.

"Dinner and movie versus diner and couch shopping. Deal!" Dean agreed, his eyes sparkling as they clinked their bottles.

They drank a few gulps before sitting back a bit more comfortably, looking at the small television in front of them.

"Your couch sure is ugly," Benny commented after a while.

"Horrible," Dean agreed. "But comfy."

"Yeah, comfy." He repeated. "Seriously, what got through your mind to buy something with so many shitty colors?!" he wondered.

Dean let out a loud laugh. "It was my grand-dad's. My parents had kept it in their basement for whatever reason, and I got it when I moved to Chicago for the Academy training. It's a pull-out and the bed is actually really soft. I had some nice time on it too with some ladies from the Academy!"

"Okay brother! Stop right there, too much information!"

"Like you don't tell me what's going on between you and Andrea!" Dean countered.

"Not everything!" Benny shot back. "Not the sex life!"

Dean gave him a sideways glance.

"Not everything!" Benny corrected.

"Sure…" Dean said sarcastically, making his friend laugh.

"Speaking of whom…" he finished his beer in one sip. "I better head back home before sunset. I promised I'd help her with the garden today."

"You better hurry then."

Benny nodded. He got up and went to put his empty beer in the kitchen sink. He took his jacket he had left on Dean's bed then reached the front door where Dean was waiting for him.

"Thanks again, Benny. Have I ever told you you're a lifesaver?"

"Many times, brother. But keep going!"

They chuckled and Dean pulled Benny in a bear crushing hug before letting him go. Benny waved at him, put his hat on and left.

(***)

That Wednesday, Dean just couldn't wait to talk to not-Doctor Castiel Novak. There were so many things that had happened lately, he wanted to share the good news with him, knowing for sure that he would be happy for him if not even proud.

Thanks to Benny who dropped by at his apartment early morning, he got his beloved car back. A black Chevrolet Impala from 1967 which he entrusted Benny for the time of his assignment. After a bit of administrative paperwork, his car was legally his again and it was with happiness that he drove to Castiel's office a little earlier than usual. He found a good parking spot nearby, locked his car and hurried to the office.

As soon as he entered, he felt something was not right. The secretary looked at him, clearly surprised to see him that early.

"Mr. Winchester, you were not expected for another thirty minutes," she commented. "Please have a seat," she said, pointing to the black leather chair next to her, the one Benny usually sat on.

Dean greeted her and took place in front of her desk.

"I would have to ask you to sit here," she indicated. As Dean refused and told her he was very comfortable where he was, thank you very much, she had to explain. "For privacy reasons, I really have to insist and ask you to sit right here or leave the office and come back in thirty minutes."

Dean's first reaction was to laugh her off, but he noticed her tone and serious expression so he obliged. He got up and went to sit where she indicated him. He did not like the spot at all. The secretary's desk hid his view to Castiel's office and the exit door, whereas his previous seat provided him with a perfect panorama to both. Deciding to be on his best behavior, he remained seated and waited patiently.

After maybe five minutes, he started to hear muffled screams coming from Castiel's office. He shuffled on his seat and looked at the secretary.

"Don't worry," she told him when she noticed his agitation. "It will be over soon." Then she resumed her activities.

He nodded and sat a bit more comfortably on the chair. He still felt a bit uneasy, wondering what was happening behind those walls and hoping Castiel was alright. He still wasn't sure what Castiel's business was but he surely didn't do anything to deserve being shouted at.

He needed to take his mind off the voice, especially because he couldn't do anything and couldn't hear anything. The secretary would do.

"I never asked your name, sweetheart," he told her with the patented Winchester smile. "What can I call you?"

She slowly turned her head to look at him, one perfectly shaped eyebrow raised and unimpressed look on her face.

"That's because I never told you," she shot back with a cold-calm voice. "But if your alpha-male ego wants to know, you can call me Miss. That'll do."

Well, it has been a while since Dean got shut down like this. Instead of feeling insulted, he chuckled.

"Alright Miss," he said. "Nice to meet you!" he countered.

"Of course it is," she replied and turned back to face her computer, which made Dean laugh harder.

"So, what's happening in there?" he asked. "Some douchebag customer or something?"

"Something like that," she admitted with a smirk. "But he's nothing Mr. Novak can't handle."

"He's something, right?! Mr. Novak I mean."

"Yes he is," she confirmed with a small nod.

"But what's his deal?" he asked. "Does he have a special PhD or something to do whatever he does?" he clarified as the secretary shot him an interrogative glance.

"He didn't explain to you? At your first session?" she wondered, brows slightly raised.

Dean opened his mouth but immediately shut it. How could he explain that he behaved like a total dick at that time? And that he didn't even give Castiel the opportunity to talk or explain anything? He clenched his jaw, trying to find something to say.

At that very instant, Castiel's office door burst open and someone came out. Dean couldn't see the person, hidden by the desk. He kept still.

"If you had a hint of common sense, you would pick the right choice, Castiel Novak!" Dean heard a man shout. "You will hear from me, and sooner than you think!" He then left the office, furiously banging the door as he exited.

Dean heard a loud sigh coming from Castiel's office.

"That went well," he heard Castiel comment, apparently approaching his secretary.

"Could have been worse," Miss replied. "By the way, Mr. Winchester is already in," she indicated with a hand gesture.

Castiel circled the massive desk and spotted Dean.

"Hello Dean," he said with a smile. "You're a bit early."

"Is that a problem?" Dean asked as he stood up.

"No, of course not. Please come on in."

"Are you sure? I can wait a bit if you want, so you can relax after having to deal with that douchebag."

Castiel grinned a little. "I've had worse."

Dean couldn't hide his surprise, shooting his eyebrows up, then complied. "Okay then. Let's go!"

He smiled at the secretary then entered Castiel's office and sat down in his usual chair. Castiel took a few seconds to arrange his desk and pull out Dean's notebook and file.

"How are you today?" he asked.

"Great!" Dean answered. "Many things happened this week."

"Please, tell me all about it." He said, preparing to take notes.

"I don't even know where to start!" Dean laughed. He remained silent for a second, thinking about his next sentence when he felt Castiel's gaze on him. He locked eyes with him, his smile slightly moving to a grin.

He should tell the not-Doctor to stop staring like this, it was intimidating. Especially with such blue piercing eyes. He must be quite popular amongst the ladies, being well-built and having such beautiful eyes and… was that stubble, Dean noticed. Since when did Castiel have a stubble? Or did he always have it and Dean never realized before? Well it was a nice stubble, according to Dean's standards. It fit him quite well, contouring his mouth and lips, which also looked quite good.

Dean frowned. When on earth did his almost-shrink get a handsome face? Dean admitted he looked a bit tired and had dark circles but that gave him something Dean couldn't identify, a little je ne sais quoi that made him good looking. Dean thought about the term "hot" but really, that would cross a line with his not-therapist he obviously did not want to cross. Dean's eyes travelled back from the stubble to his bright blue eyes. _Maybe "gorgeous" would apply_ , he thought. Wait… what was he thinking about? What was he supposed to talk about?

"Dean?"

 _And that damn deep voice!_

"Yes Cas?" he blurted out.

"About your week?" Castiel said gently, noticing Dean was lost in his thoughts.

"Yeah! My week! Haha!" Dean sputtered, feeling heat spreading on his cheeks. "I got my Baby back this morning!"

"Your baby?" Castiel questioned, frowning deeply. He spread his right arm and caught a big yellow folder. He opened it on his knees and started browsing the papers in it. "I was not aware you had a child…" he mumbled.

"What?!" Dean almost squealed. "No! Not a kid! My car!"

"Your car?"

"Yeah, my car! I call her Baby!" Dean burst out laughing. "For God's sake, I don't have a kid, I'd be a terrible dad!"

"Hum… right… that was surprising…" Castiel commented while rearranging the folder and putting it back on his desk. "I thought my information was flawed."

"Nah," Dean dismissed. "I was just talking about my car. I have this '67 Chevy Impala and let me tell you, she's the best and most beautiful car ever! 327 four barrel, 275 horses, this thing is over forty and still badass!"

Castiel looked pleased at Dean's enthusiasm. He nodded and wrote all information down. "Keep going," he told Dean when he stopped talking to let Castiel take notes.

"I got the car from my Dad, when I graduated high school at eighteen. He told me that was my first step to becoming a man. He also gave me my first beer."

"Was it really your first beer?" Castiel asked, looking straight at Dean.

"Of course not!" he smirked. "I had to make a face to make him believe it was my first try!"

Castiel grinned. "That's what I thought," he admitted, still staring.

"Aren't you gonna write that down?" Dean asked.

"Your first beer experience is not relevant to your post-assignment life," Castiel explained. "However if you feel that it is necessary, I can take note."

"What are you going to do with all the stuff you write? Publish a book? And call it something like "The thrilling life of Dean?" or maybe "My life in a mob?" or "How to not reintegrate civilian society?"" Dean teased.

Castiel shook his head. "Nothing of the sort," he clarified "but I will keep them as archive."

"In case my reintegration goes south and you need to cover your ass?" Dean guessed.

"Dean, that's not-"

"No worries Cas, I get it. Just do your job."

Castiel seemed to want to argue but instead of protesting, he just frowned a little and looked down at the notebook.

"So my Dad gave me the Impala," Dean resumed as if nothing had happened. "Told me to take care of it. I knew I had to, otherwise he'd tear me a new one." His laugh came out a bit sad. "The car helped me to get jobs, which helped to pay bills and get Sammy through college." He lost himself in past memories. "But I had to get rid of everything that belonged to me, so I left Baby with Benny, who registered it under an alias and kept it in a garage. He brought it back this morning and we could make all the papers. I'm officially the owner again!" he cheered.

"Congratulations," Castiel commented with a little smile.

As soon as Castiel pronounced the word, Dean felt the shift in the atmosphere. When he had entered the room, it was all nice and casual. Now it felt colder and more professional. Dean knew it was his fault and blamed his big damn mouth. One day he'll learn to think before speaking.

"Thank you," he replied gently, "but you have to wait for the other great news."

He waited a few seconds, under Castiel's scrutiny.

"Since Monday, I have my own place!" he finally blurted. "But that's not even the best part. I called my brother and he said he'll try to fly over for a weekend!"

Just the thought of seeing Sam again made Dean ecstatic. Of course their conversation had its ups and downs but what Dean clung to was what Sam had told him: he would try to catch a red eye flight to meet him in Chicago in less than two weeks.

"This is really great, Dean," Castiel congratulated him again. "I am really glad to hear that."

"Thank you, Cas," Dean replied shyly, feeling Castiel's warmth again.

"Tell me all about it. What are your plans?" he asked.

He smiled, happy Castiel showed signs of interest. He felt light headed. Suddenly, he couldn't hold it any longer and told him about his conversation with Sam, how he found the apartment, how Benny helped him move his stuff, what he planned to do while Sam's here, how he hesitated to buy a better couch despite this one being so comfortable but ugly, what he wanted to cook, how he desperately wanted to meet Sam's girlfriend, how he wanted to make it up to him for not being there while his engagement broke off, then told Castiel about the first conversation they had, giving more details.

When Dean finally stopped talking, almost an hour had passed. Castiel, who usually ended their session after thirty minutes, had let him speak for so long. Dean felt a bit ridiculous, being a real Chatty Cathy. However, Castiel seemed satisfied with the session and strangely again, did not write everything down, sometimes focusing his full attention on Dean instead of taking notes. Dean had not commented on that anymore and was glad he learned his lesson. There was again a warm atmosphere between Castiel and him which he hoped would remain as long as he had to attend their sessions.

Castiel and Dean finally got up and shook hands. He left the office, Castiel following him closely. As soon as he reached the lobby, he waved the secretary goodbye with a wink and a small grin. Her crooked eyebrow was all the reaction he hoped for.

Feeling lighter than ever, he walked to his car and decided to go for a drive. He drove to Lake Michigan, found a nice spot near an artificially created beach, ordered a hamburger and fries from the nearby food truck, and waited for the sunset. When the sun went down, illuminating everything in a soft orange color, at that exact moment, he felt good and at peace. He knew it wouldn't last so he enjoyed it as much as possible.

(***)

The week went by very quickly for Dean. He worked many hours on the Impala, verifying this, screwing that, changing the oil, getting her back into shape. He loved every single minute of it. It also helped him to ignore some bad dreams he was having recently. Waking up screaming and drenched in sweat really wasn't a way to start the day. But thanks to Baby, he managed to ignore what these nightmares were about.

He also bought some cheap shelves for his books that went in his bedroom and a cabinet for the television. He emptied the remaining boxes and framed a few pictures of his family that he found neatly wrapped between the bigger books.

To his surprise, he received a phone call from Sam on Saturday afternoon. The conversation was very short as Sam had only a few minutes before him. He informed Dean he managed to get his Monday off as promised. He would take a flight from San Francisco the next Friday late night, at 22:30, and reach Chicago at 4:31 on Saturday morning. Dean would have to pick him up at the airport or Sam would have to take a cab. Dean insisted he would be there to meet him and drive him back to his place. Sam would stay the whole weekend and leave the next Monday late evening to reach San Francisco before midnight and catch some sleep before work.

Dean had asked if Sam would come alone or if he would join with his girlfriend. Sam told him he would come alone which gave Dean some conflicted emotions. He was happy he would get his baby brother back for him alone for three days, but was a bit disappointed he wouldn't meet his significant other because Sam, most probably, didn't trust him yet enough to meet her. But he understood and promised Sam they would have the best weekend ever.

As soon as he hung up, he started a list of all the things he needed to buy and what he needed to do before Sam's arrival, along with all the possible bars and restaurant they could go out. Unfortunately, the list of places he knew was rather short. Except for one diner, all the other locations were possible mob hideouts. As he was supposed to either be arrested by the cops like the rest of the Crowley organization or have fled somewhere, he just couldn't show his face and act as if nothing happened. He needed to ask Benny.

On the next Wednesday, Dean felt really talkative and told Castiel about almost everything he had done during the week, including the phone call with his brother. The session lasted the usual thirty minutes and Castiel almost didn't have to ask any questions as Dean happily provided.

They parted with Castiel telling Dean he was eager to hear about Sam and Dean's reunion.

(***)

Saturday arrived both fast and slow. Dean couldn't wait to see Sam again but as the days went by, he grew more and more anxious. What would happen? Will they get along fine? Castiel had tried to reassure him during their session. Benny was also very supportive. However, neither would be present during the weekend. It really was about him manning up and dealing with all the problems he caused to Sam.

He had originally planned on sleeping until 3am on Saturday morning, but when his alarm clock showed midnight, it was obvious he was so excited, thrilled and anxious he wouldn't be able to get any shut eye. He left his bed, changed the sheets with fresh ones and decided to clean his apartment which was already pristine as he had scrubbed every inch and corner since he knew Sam was coming over. He might have been stress-cleaning too. Now he just couldn't remain seated or in bed. He checked if the beers were stored in the fridge, that there was enough junk food to last a whole siege. He even bought Lucky Charms for Sam's breakfast as he remembered they were his favorite.

After a while, he just walked aimlessly in his apartment, not knowing what to do. He sat down on the couch and held his phone out. He almost called Benny but managed to stop himself before the dial got out. Benny was most certainly asleep and Dean didn't want to bother him. He then thought about Castiel. After all, it was his job to listen to Dean so he could spare five minutes of his time and… Dean's thoughts stopped as he realized he didn't have Castiel's phone number. He grumbled and decided to ask him next time they meet.

Dean finally decided to drive all the way to the airport and wait there. After all, nothing good would come out of him moping in his apartment. He grabbed his keys, his wallet, and after locking his door, ran down the stairs and got in the Impala.

He drove up to the airport, Led Zeppelin blasting out of the speakers. It was a relatively quick drive as it took him only twenty-five minutes. The traffic was really light which was expected considering it was 2am.

Once he reached the airport, he found a parking spot the furthest from any other car. He didn't want to risk a dent on Baby's door because of some douchebag. He got out and walked slowly to the airport entrance. After all, speeding up wouldn't make Sam's plane land any faster.

He looked for the Arrivals sign and, when found, followed it through corridors and different halls. It wasn't that far, a few hundred meters or so. Once he reached the door for passengers to exit, he looked around for information about Sam's flight. He found two flat screens showing the different flights approaching Chicago. There were only five planned to land in the next six hours. Sam's was on time, which was a good news. But he still had two hours to kill before he would finally be reunited with Sammy.

He remembered a Starbucks on his way over. He walked back and thankfully, the coffee shop was still open. Apparently, it was open 24/7. He walked to the cashier and smiled. The cashier seemed exhausted and didn't return Dean's smile. However, Dean didn't mind. He was in a mood for something sweet and caffeinated. After looking at the drink list, he decided for a mocha. He placed his order.

"Which size?" the cashier asked in a tired voice, eyes half-closed.

"Regular would be fine," Dean answered, taking his wallet out.

"Grande or Venti?" he replied.

"Regular?" Dean tried again, at a loss at what the young boy was saying.

"Grande or Venti?" the cashier repeated, which started to run on Dean's nerves.

"Whatever man," he grumbled. "I have no idea what you mean, I just want a drink not too big and not too small. You're talking nonsense!"

The boy gave Dean a long weary look and sighed. He indicated empty cups arranged in size from smallest to tallest. "Grande," he said while showing one, "Venti," while showing another.

Dean shook his head. When he was in the mob's owned coffee shops, ordering a simple mocha wasn't that complicated. "Grande," he answered.

The cashier nodded. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Sorry what?"

"What's your name, sir?"

"Dean," he answered, not even trying to make any sense out of this nonsense. He handed out a ten dollar bill. The cashier gave his change back.

A few minutes later, the cashier called his name and handed him the beverage.

Dean took it, refrained from making a snarky comment because the kid obviously had had enough, then walked to the exit gate. He found a seat opposite to the doors, next to the panoramic window. Just one hour forty-five minutes to kill before Sam's arrival. He took a sip but it was still way too warm to drink. He almost burned his tongue and cursed the Starbucks for making coffees so hot. Starting to get a little bored, he took his phone out and started browsing his contacts. Of course, it was way too late to call anybody, however he itched to call some of his former relations while in Crowley's organization. One person in particular. But just as he thought about her, he mentally chastised himself. All ties were cut the day the police and F.B.I. worked together and arrested all organization members. And if his nightmares were either about her or about some of his actions, then he would have to live with it. This was his life now.

Dean waited patiently for Sam's plane to land. He let his mind wander, thinking about how the weekend would go, if one day he'll gather enough courage to call his parents, what was the deal with that Castiel guy who probably was the strangest person Dean ever met. He hoped he would sign the papers soon. However he knew that having high hopes only led to disappointment.

Before Dean really realized it, the wait was almost over. A small crowd had gathered in front of the gates and chatter was getting louder by the minute. Then, a voice came out of the speakers and informed the plane had landed. Just a few more minutes before Dean would be reunited with Sam. Dean felt his heartbeat speed up. He forced himself to calm down. He drank the remaining cold drops of his mocha and went to threw it away in a nearby trash can.

The gates suddenly opened and the passengers slowly walked out. Some of them had vibrant smiles while hugging their loved ones. Others looked like businessmen and women, tired from the flight and only looking for a hotel room. Dean was now carefully watching who was coming out. He feared he wouldn't recognize his own brother. How much can someone change in five years? After all, the last time he saw Sam he was twenty-two. Dean didn't have time to think any further. A familiar face was walking towards him, at least twenty centimeters taller than everybody else. Dean couldn't help but smile. He raised his arm and waved at his brother, but didn't call him, somehow he felt a knot in his throat. He just couldn't speak. Sam made a beeline and stopped only a few centimeters from Dean. He too was smiling brightly.

At that exact moment, Dean felt like a kid waiting for his mother's instructions. Should they hug? Should they shake hands? Should he say something? Surprisingly for him, Sam moved first. He crossed the space between them and hugged Dean. Suddenly, Dean's face was covered in hair but he didn't mind. He closed his arms around his brother and tighten his grip. It had been a long time, such a long time. He now realized how much he had missed this.

"Heya Sammy," Dean managed to croak after a while.

Sam kept silent and continued to bear-hug him, burying his face in the crook of his neck. They did not move for a solid minute. Dean noticed how tall, how muscular and fit Sam now was. He had left a scrawny young adult and met with a giant, healthy and strong man. And he missed all this, all the changes. His heart ached, knowing he would never be able to go back in time and be there for his little brother.

"Dean…" Sam finally said as he withdrew. "You actually came."

"Course I did, Sammy!" Dean defended. "It's… it's really nice to see you buddy."

Sam's smile became a little bit sadder, for a reason unknown to Dean. "Yeah, you too."

Silence fell between them, a little awkward.

"So, err… do you have a luggage or something?" Dean asked, gesturing to Sam. "Can I help you carry?"

"No, I'm good. Just got a backpack." Sam explained, showing a black bag that hung on his shoulders.

"Okay, cool. I'm parked not far. Let's go."

Sam nodded, pushed his brown mane behind his ears and followed Dean who had already taken the direction back to the parking lot.

They walked side by side until they reached Dean's car. Sam let out a small laugh when he saw it.

"What's funny?" Dean asked, smiling at Sam.

"The Impala." Sam explained. "I can't believe you still have the car!"

"Come on, it's the Impala! She's as beautiful as ever!" Dean answered. "Just look at her!"

Sam inhaled but didn't comment. Instead he simply nodded, lips in a thin line.

"And Dad gave it to me." Dean continued. "I know he'd tear me a new one if something happened to her."

"Yeah, I remember. It was a pretty big deal when he gave it to you."

"It was his pride, remember? He used to work on her every damn weekend!"

Sam chuckled. "Used to drive Mom crazy."

He shook his bag off his shoulders and waited for Dean to open the doors. "All she ever wanted was to have a nice family trip somewhere but Dad was too focused on the car."

"Yeah…" Dean agreed. "But she got some trips after he bought the new one, right?"

"Some trips… not much… You left after a while and she basically gave up on the trips."

Dean nodded, biting his lower lip while looking at the roof of the car, clearly lost in his thoughts.

"We should get going, right?" Sam asked, brows arched.

"Right. Right! Let's go!" Dean exclaimed.

They opened the doors and got into the Impala. Dean started the engine and slowly exited the parking area.

As soon as they left the airport, Dean noticed how tired his baby brother was. His eyelids were slowly drooping, he slumped a bit more on the seat by each passing minute and he only gave short answers when Dean asked him about his flight and made attempts to small talk. He decided to let Sam get some rest and true enough, a few minutes later his breathing evened out, indicating he fell asleep.

Dean drove the smoothest he knew how until they reached his apartment. He parked the car on the building's parking lot, stopped the engine and Sam began to stir next to him.

"We there?" he asked in a hoarse voice, not really managing to articulate properly.

"Yep," Dean confirmed "Fourth floor. You good to go?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded. He got out of the Impala, threw his backpack over the shoulder and waited for Dean to lead the way.

They walked through the parking lot for a few dozen meters before reaching the building's entrance. Dean opened the door and waited for Sam to catch up. They climbed the stairs and reached the old reddish door of Dean's apartment. He unlocked it as quiet as possible to not wake his only next door neighbor up. He turned on the lights, let Sam in then locked behind them.

"I bet you're knackered," Dean said, "maybe it's best you sleep for a while and we'll see what we do tomorrow?"

"Sounds good," Sam conceded. "Where's the couch?"

"Over there, next to the window", Dean indicated with his hand. He showed the couch then looked at his brother then back at the couch. "Shit…" he mustered "I don't even think you'd fit in there!"

Sam joined Dean looked at where he was supposed to sleep. He frowned. "Is it your old couch? The one from Samuel?"

"That's the one!"

"Dude, it's… antique!"

Dean laughed at that. "Yeah, it is. Still comfy though but -" he shook his head "I have no idea what's been fed to you but you're like the Green Giant!"

"Dean…" Sam began with a sigh.

"Seriously, you grew what… Twenty centimeters? Thirty? You're actually taller than me!" Dean wondered.

"Not taller than you," Sam corrected. "Way taller than you!" He laughed.

"Very funny, Gigantor!" he mocked. "There's still no way you'll fit here." He ran a hand on his neck. "Okay, you'll take the bed, I'll sleep here."

"Dean, it's fine. I had worse, I'll manage." Sam reassured him.

Dean frowned and looked up at this brother, suddenly very serious. "You had?" What had he missed during those years? What is Sam not telling him? He failed his baby brother? _Again?_

Sam shook his head, smiling. "Errr, nope. I haven't, but it's cool. I'll manage."

"Bitch! Don't scare me like that!" Dean refrained for punching his gigantic brother's shoulder. "Come on, I'll show you the bedroom. I'm used to sleeping here anyway."

Sam nodded and silently followed Dean, who was well aware that his brother seemed exhausted and that explained why he didn't protest any further.

"Here you go, make yourself at home. You're lucky, the sheets are clean today."

"Thank you Dean."

"Don't mention it. I'll—I'll see you in the morning. Wake me up."

"Sure, good night Dean."

"Goodnight Sammy."

Dean hesitated but finally turned on his heel and closed his bedroom door behind him, giving Sam his privacy. He then returned to the couch and contemplated it with a determined look.

"It's just you and me now. Please don't break my back," he muttered then swore when he realized he left his sleeping pants in his room. Well, too late now. He removed his jacket and let it rest on the floor next to the couch. His pants, shirt and t-shirt followed the same direction until he was left with only his boxers. Thankfully he had two cushions that he found in a box which would do as pillows for the night, and an old blanket that was thrown over the back of the couch. He managed to do a makeshift of a bed which was comfortable enough. As soon as he laid his head down, he fell asleep, exhausted by the day he had.

(***)

It seemed to Dean he only slept for about four hours, which must probably be true as he went to bed early morning. The sound of items being moved around in his kitchen managed to wake him up completely.

"Sam?" he asked, a hand rubbing his face.

"Yes, sorry I woke you up. I'm trying to make coffee and didn't find the machine."

Dean stood up slowly, testing how much the couch screwed his lower back. "S'okay Sammy, I'll do it." He cringed, feeling a bit sore. "Why don't you take a shower while I prepare breakfast?"

His heard his brother take a small inhale. "It's—I already took a shower. I hoped you wouldn't mind?"

"Errr, no, it's cool." He ran a hand through his hair and managed to stand up completely. "Hey, you know what I got you?" he asked, chipper and smiling brightly.

Sam shut a cupboard and raised his eyebrows. "What?"

Dean couldn't hold it in any longer, he just knew that would make Sam happy, just like when they were kids. "Lucky Charms!" Dean exclaimed, a huge smile in his lips. "Man, you just loved those! I remember you always asked Mom to buy you more."

Immediately, Dean felt something was wrong when Sam did not share his enthusiasm. He frowned. Was Sam looking hesitant?

"Spit it out, buddy. What's wrong?" he asked as he walked to meet Sam in his small kitchen.

Sam winced a little. "I—err… I kinda don't eat those anymore," he explained.

"Oh…" Dean slightly raised his eyebrows. "No worries, man. I can put something together real quick. What about PB&J? Sounds good?" he tried.

"Actually…" Sam still looked hesitant. "Do you have fruits or—err… or a yogurt?"

Dean almost let out a big laugh because Sam had to be joking, but as soon as he realized his brother was genuine about this, he stopped and tried to look serious. "No. No actually. Want me to make some pancakes?"

"No Dean, really. Coffee is fine," Sam objected.

Dean felt a bit bad to not be able to meet his brother's expectations. "You sure you don't want pancakes? I can assure you I make some mean pancakes!"

Sam shook his head. "Just coffee please."

"Alright…" Dean sighed and gave up. "Let me get that for you." He gestured for Sam to move and let him through in his kitchen. After looking in his cupboards, he got the machine up and running in only a few minutes. Meanwhile, Sam folded the blanket and put it on the back of the couch and rearranged the cushions before sitting down while Dean was busy with the coffee.

Once the coffee ready, Dean poured some in his newest mug and brought it to Sam who was waiting patiently and obviously a little awkwardly on the couch. "Sugar? Milk?" he asked as he handed it to his brother.

"None, thanks Dean." Sam answered. He took the mug and immediately put it down on the coffee table. "Hot!" he cringed.

"Duh!" Dean laughed. "Hey, I'll go take a shower. You make yourself at home, okay? And if you feel like eating something, just, you know—whatever." He said as he gestured towards the kitchen.

"Huh. Yeah. Got it. Thanks Dean."

Dean nodded but did not move. He hesitated and slightly opened his mouth. He wanted to add something but the words were stuck behind his lips. He was so glad to have his baby brother back, to talk to him and have a little domesticity like when they were kids. But he knew he was never good with words. And so he tried to articulate a sentence to express how he felt, but Sam's raised eyebrows and questioning look cut that short.

"I'll be quick," he muttered as he turned and headed to his bedroom where the bathroom was located.

Dean bee lined to his bedroom where he closed the door and silently insulted his incapacity to communicate properly, even with his own brother. He took his boxers off and threw them in the dirty laundry bag in a corner of the room then opened his closet and gathered fresh clothes for the day. He laid everything down on his bed when he noticed Sam had actually made the bed. This early in the morning? Dean had no idea what time it was. He looked at his alarm clock. Almost ten o'clock. So they really only slept for about four hours.

Decided to spend as much time as possible with his baby brother, Dean rushed to the bathroom and took what was probably his quickest shower ever. All clean and smelling faintly of ginger, he dried himself and put on the clothes: a worn out pair of jeans and a grey and black henley.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror on one bedroom wall and was satisfied with what he was seeing. He walked out and saw Sam, smiling bright while typing furiously on his smartphone.

"Hey Sammy! It's too early for sexting!" Dean shouted, making Sam roll his eyes even if he couldn't actually see it.

"Not sexting. Just confirming I was alright," he retorted, still smiling.

Dean moved towards the couch and used his silliest voice. "Aaaawwww. Your girlfriend's worried!" He sat down and wriggled his eyebrows.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed. "And you don't have to be a dick about it," he bit back, side-eyeing Dean who got thrown back.

"Sorry."

He gestured toward the phone. "That's—that's nice actually. And kinda cute." He looked at Sam, who seemed to accept this as an apology. "Hey, want more coffee?"

"Nah, I'm good."

"Okay. Awesome." Dean nodded and bit his lower lip. He nodded once more and tried to ease the tension in the room. "You know what you wanna eat today? Chinese? Italian?" he suggested.

"Dean," Sam cut him off, turning slowly to face him as he pocketed his phone. "I appreciate the effort but I didn't come all the way here for small talk."

"Yeah. Got it." Dean conceded. "I bet you have questions. Shoot!"

Sam nodded. His eyes were fixed on Dean while he thought about what to ask first.

"Where were you?" he finally questioned.

"Chicago. For the most part." Dean answered honestly. If he was going to fix his relation with his brother, he could not omit one bit and only tell the truth.

"What did you do?" Sam asked.

"I was in a mob. I—"

"In a mob?!" Sam interrupted, eyes growing wide. "You got to be kidding!"

"Wait! Let me finish!" Dean said, hands raised to try to calm Sam down. He waited for his brother to settle down, then continued. "You may have heard about it on the news. The Crowley Organization?" Sam nodded.

"Well, I infiltrated that mob. I was an undercover cop and my role was to get information and proof to help bring it down."

Sam could not mutter a word. His lips were slightly parted. Dean took this as an encouraging sign. Maybe Sam was ready to forgive his years of absence if he thought Dean did a good job. Just maybe.

"At first it was supposed to last one year. That would give me enough time to be trusted and sniff around, you know? But after a while, I got higher in ranks and closer to Crowley. They decided to extend my mission by a year. Then another. And another. I got in deep, man! Real deep. I was trusted by Crowley himself and managed to get loads of proof and testimonies."

"And that helped to bring the whole organization down?" Sam asked with a small voice.

"Yeah!" Dean scoffed. "You betcha! Benny said that thanks to me, Crowley would be away for life! And others too! We brought hell on them!"

"Benny?" Sam asked.

"My handler."

Sam nodded, eyes wide and a little disbelieving. "Wow, Dean. That's… that's… I don't even know what to say!"

Dean scratched the back of his neck. "I'm sorry Sammy. I just couldn't tell you, or Mom or Dad, about it. It would have put you and me in a dangerous position."

"And now?"

"What now?"

"Now you're telling me this but are you safe? Are we safe?" Sam questioned, worry creeping in his voice.

"The whole organization is wiped out! I'm just waiting on some confirmation from my Chief and the official trial but… I'm good. We're good." Dean finished with a smile. He exhaled slowly, not realizing how tensed he was. Even his fingers hurt as he noticed he white-knuckled through the whole story. "That's why I can tell you now but couldn't earlier. Chief and Benny said the last guys who were trying to escape got caught. The rest is just small fry. The whole organization is dismantled! It's awesome, right?"

Sam nodded slowly.

"That's gotta count for something right? I mean, I didn't ditch you for a Russian baby-doll. It was for something big!"

Sam put his hair behind his ears and licked his lips. "I need a drink."

"Coffee?" Dean suggested with a silly grin.

"Dean…" Sam growled.

"Okay! Beer it is! Hey, it's five somewhere!"

He immediately stood up and hurried to the kitchen where he grabbed two beers from the fridge. He uncapped the bottles and returned to the couch. Sam was now sitting more comfortably, head resting against the wall because that's how tall he was. Dean sat down next to him and handed him a beer. Sam took it and without any word, gulped down half.

"Hey, slow down tiger!" Dean warned, amused to see his brother drink. When he left, Sam was barely allowed alcohol.

"Thanks," Sam said as he rested the bottle against his thigh, eyes lost on the ceiling.

"No problem, man. I got another six-pack if you need!"

"No. I mean, thanks for telling me."

"Oh. Okay. Hum… sure…" Dean hesitated, unsure about what to say. Thankfully Sam still had questions he needed to ask.

"But what exactly did you do all this time? You just couldn't have stalked the guys and take pictures or whatever?"

Dean laughed. "No, nothing like that. I got hired as a mechanic in a garage that had ties with the mafia. Then, I got in for some of their operations. Helped here and there. Took care of business. Tracked down moles. You know, that sort of things."

"Moles?" Sam straighten up and looked at his brother. "Dean! Did you hurt people?"

"Oh come on…" Dean whined as he mentally slapped himself. "Why don't we talk about you, eh?"

"No, I want to know! And don't give me _that's classified_ crap!"

Dean double-slapped himself and sighed. "Sam, I had to be the real-deal. I couldn't just pretend, that's not how it works." He looked at his brother and shook his head. He felt suddenly warmth in his limbs, like an old anger slowly washing over him.

"You know, when you watch cop shows, they make it look so cool and heroic. But being undercover for real? Dude, that sucks! Big time! You get dirty and you gotta play by their rules. You just can't show weakness or they'll know! And if they knew, it's not only me they'd take care of. First, they'd go after you, after Mom and Dad. After Benny, Chief Singer, Lisa and Ben! Everyone! They'd make me watch how they torture you. Then they'd kill you, slowly. And if I got lucky, they'd kill me next, nice and clean. And all this, just to set an example." He spat out, not catching a single breath between his words. "This is—that's so fucked up. I can't even tell you the things I've heard." He slowed down and without looking away from his brother, he concluded. "Yeah, Sam. I hurt people."

As Dean's monologue went on, Sam grew paler and paler, his chin hanging lower and lower. He was at a loss, clearly not knowing how to react. "I'm—I'm so sorry Dean…"

Dean shook his head. He wanted to leave the room and be left alone. He was angry and felt miserable at the same time. But he knew that was not the answer. He had to face his brother and maybe get things back on track. He brought the beer bottle to his lips and started drinking in long gulps, eyes closed. He let his thoughts wander while the cold liquid ran down his throat, trying to cool down before he could face Sam again. He dreaded to see the inevitable look of disgust on his face, knowing what he had done. Well… knowing partially what he had done. But maybe disgust was better than running away. When he had enough and felt strong enough to look at Sam, he opened his eyes and placed the bottle on the coffee table. He slowly turned his head, ready to deal with Sam's distrust. But what he saw was his brother's puppy face, the very same he used when they were kids to get the last Lucky Charms or even later when he tried to bribe Dean to swap his chocolate ice-cream for his strawberry one. Dean was weak against that look, he knew it. It was a Pavlovian response. Sam seemed so lost and frail despite his gigantic frame. Dean squinted. Was Sam's eyes getting wet? Oh no! Dean could not handle tears!

"Hey, it's cool Sammy!" Dean hurried to add. "What's done is done! I cannot change the past and really, getting rid of Crowley was a favor done to the world!"

Suddenly, Sam's arms were around his shoulders and his face buried in his neck. "I'm so sorry…" he heard, muffled. "So sorry Dean. I'm so sorry." The hug got tighter to the point of being almost painful but Dean did not care. He loved it. He raised his arms and hugged back, just as solid. But before his heartbeat could slow down from his happiness high, Sam had let go and was trying to go back to his own seat on the couch. Immediately, Dean missed it. It had been five years since he last hugged his baby brother properly. He felt entitled to a longer hug than this. Somehow he sensed it would not be the last and that thought alone made him smile.

"It's cool Sammy," he repeated "it's all in the past now."

Sam nodded. "What are you gonna do now?" he asked as he sniffed, trying to regain his composure.

"Back to being a cop," Dean answered "as soon as some guy gives his approval. I need his clearance before I can go back."

"You need a shrink's approval or something?"

"Well, not a shrink but yes. Seems like being undercover for five years could have messed me up. He's here to confirm I'm no danger for myself or society and that I cut all ties with the mob, that kind of stuff." Dean shrugged. "I'm learning to be a regular citizen again!" he laughed.

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Wow, I didn't know…" he sniffed again. "Hey, how about we go get lunch somewhere? What do you say? I'm starving!"

Dean approved eagerly. "There's this diner I know… sound good?"

"Yeah. Sounds great," Sam agreed, a smile on his face.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam and Dean were sitting across each other in a booth. It took them no longer than ten minutes to reach the diner. As it wasn't noon yet, they were the only customers. As soon as they entered, a waitress with a neat pink apron around her plump waist welcomed them and sat them down, leaving the menu behind.

"You come here often?" Sam asked, looking around to gauge the place.

"First time," Dean confessed. "I had to ask around cause all the other places I know are somehow in business with gangs and the other one might not be suited for you."

Sam frowned. "Why is that?"

Dean shrugged. "It's not really high-class. I like it but I wanted something good for you. Some people advised this one, so here we are."

Sam opened his mouth and inhaled, ready to comment but decided against it. He just looked at the menu while running a hand in his hair.

A few minutes later, the waitress came back, ready to take their order. Sam asked for yogurt with fresh fruits and Dean settled for the House Specialty Breakfast with side bacon and coffee for both.

"What's with all that healthy eating?" Dean asked as the waitress gave their order to the kitchen.

Sam made a dismissive gesture. "Just want to keep in shape, is all."

"Dude, you're already built like He-Man!" he pointed to Sam's broad shoulders and muscled biceps.

"And I want to keep it that way," Sam said. "I don't ask you why you ordered an artery-blocking pile of grease."

"Oh, come on!" Dean protested, making a face. "It's not every day I can go out with my brother. I'm celebrating!" he justified.

"Dean, all I'm saying is—I'm not judging you!" Sam looked straight at his brother. "Don't judge me."

"Hey, I'm not judging," Dean clarified with his hands raised. The conversation was not going where he wanted. "Can't a big brother tease his little brother anymore?!" he chuckled.

"We're not there yet," Sam deadpanned.

Dean's eyes grew wider. He thought they had a good head start earlier but was apparently mistaken. He did not think Sam's rejection could still hurt that much, even after all this time where he had prepared himself for such words. But he understood. He should have handled this better. After all, family always comes first. "I understand," he breathed.

"I'm sorry Dean, but it's been five years," Sam said with a pained expression. "Let's take this slowly."

Dean nodded. Maybe they should have gone to the other diner. For sure Ellen wouldn't have minded serving him whiskey that early. He nodded again, brain working hard to bring the conversation back to a lighter subject. "Tell me about you, what do you do in San Jose?" He asked.

"I'm an intern for now. Just took the bar exam and it's looking good!"

"Awesome! Congratulations!" Dean beamed. He knew it! His baby brother was the real deal, nothing like him!

"Thanks," he answered with a little smile. "I have a ten month contract. I already heard rumors saying my company was planning on getting me hired after that. I guess I'll know for sure in three month."

"You did great!" Dean said, a huge grin on his face. "Do you have a special field or something?"

"Yeah. I'm specialized in information and technology law. Software licensing, electronic signatures, that sort of thing," he explained. "My company has many international corporations as clients so it's a big opportunity for me to learn and even extend to international law to some measure. If I can stay and learn for a few years, that'd be best. Then I'll try to open my own law firm with a partner or two."

"You did really great!" Dean repeated in awe. "I'm so proud of you Sammy! Mom and Dad must be thrilled!"

Sam looked at him and smiled a little brighter. "Yeah, they're happy. Mom's happy for me."

His eyes wandered on the vinyl table, his fingers tracing some imaginary pattern. "Dad didn't say much but he really seemed happy over the phone." He shrugged before looking back at his brother. "Yeah, they're happy."

"How long has it been since you last saw Mom and Dad?" Dean asked as the subject was breached. "Do you talk to them regularly?"

"Not so much," Sam confessed. "Last time I called, it was maybe two or three months ago? And last time I went to Lawrence was about two years. It's been a long time," he admitted with a small grin, "it'd be nice to meet again."

Dean nodded, sharing the same feeling. He missed his parents. But he needed to prepare his big comeback. He could not call them out of the blue and chitchat as if nothing happened. Dean had hoped Sam would be understanding, but considering his reaction Dean was sure it would be much worse with his parents. Especially his father. John never was a tender father. If he disowned him that would still count as a win according to Dean's standards.

"How about your girlfriend?" Dean asked, eager to change the subject. "What's her name? When will I get to meet her?" he wiggled his eyebrows "Is she cute? I bet she's a nerd!"

Sam let out a big laugh before grinning. "Nerd eh? That may apply…" he lowered his gaze as if remembering some anecdote "In due time, Dean. Let's fix us first."

"Hey, I'm an open book now," Dean claimed. "Ask anything!"

"Anything?" Sam asked, one questioning eyebrow raised.

"Anything!" Dean confirmed, confident, as he made himself a bit more comfortable on the bench.

"Alright. Who are Lisa and Ben," Sam started. Immediately, Dean's breathing stopped. "Earlier today, you mentioned them."

Dean's throat felt dry. His kneejerk reaction was to lie about them. The topic was still sore and digging into it would only leave an ugly scar. Once again, he settled for the truth. A partial truth. "I met them during my mission. She—Lisa was with a guy who turned out to be a two-face. He was working for Hell's Mouth as well as Crowley's." He licked his lips, nervous because of that damn topic. "It was another gang but Crowley took over a few years after." Dean explained. "She had a kid with that guy. Ben. Crowley dealt with the guy and wanted to be certain Lisa wouldn't run to the Hellers or even to the cops to spill her guts, you know?"

"He killed the guy?" Sam asked, disgusted.

"Yeah, that's what I understood. I told you, Crowley doesn't play nice with moles. Anyway, he told me to keep an eye on her. Lisa and I got close, you see? And Ben really liked me after a while."

Sam interrupted. "Wait! Crowley asked you to threaten them?"

"No! He never asked that! He just wanted me to sniff around. Lisa was clean, everyone knew it. But he's really cautious. Why do you think it took us that long to put him behind bars? I got closer and confirmed she was alright. She tried hard not to be involved in anything Crowley-related. And she was right! That's what got her safe. From other gangs and Crowley! She—err… she was a yoga instructor." Dean nodded twice, biting his lower lip as he remembered her. "Reaaaaal bendy!" he added with a grin.

"Eww, Dean! Too much information!" Sam scolded, nose crunched.

"Hey, you asked! Now you know!"

"What happened to her?" Sam asked in a gentle voice.

Dean shrugged. Suddenly the ketchup bottle seemed real interesting. "Not sure. When the cops and the FBI raided, I ran, just like the other guys. For them, I'm either arrested or on the run. I cannot really show my face and ask around." He rolled the ketchup bottle between his palms before returning it to its original place. "It's too soon."

"You cared about her and her son," Sam stated.

Dean shrugged again. "What do you want me to say?"

Before he could go on, their waitress had returned with plates in each hands. Dean leaned against the bench and focused on the double pancakes, double eggs and bacon which were laid before him. She went back to the counter and brought their coffee with a small jug of milk and a pot full of sugar cubs. They thanked her and started digging, both obviously hungry.

They ate mostly in silence, except for the occasional "That's good." and "Best pancakes ever." from Dean.

After they emptied their plates, Dean felt a whole lot better and so did Sam who was now chatting about TV shows Dean never heard about.

"Dude, you have to read the books!" Sam said, voice a little higher due to his enthusiasm. "At least watch the show! I'm sure you'll love it!"

"What's it called again?" Dean asked to humor his brother.

"Game of Thrones."

"Sounds geeky to me."

"Dean!"

"Alright. Alright! I'll give it a try!"

"When you start watching, you have to tell me who's your favorite character, okay?"

"Okay."

"Promise!"

Dean let out a loud laugh. "I swear! Happy now?"

"Seriously, dude! It's awesome!"

Dean nodded, glad to see his brother so talkative. They continued to talk throughout dessert. Dean complained there was no pie and settled for a milkshake whereas Sam was fine with just a refill.

"If you want pie, you just need to ask Mom, you know?" Sam suggested before sipping on his coffee.

Dean sighed. "By the way, you did not tell me about that girl you almost married. What was her name?"

"Jessica," Sam provided.

"What happened?" Dean asked, a bit heartbroken to use such low trick but he really could not talk about their parents any longer. It was too much and he already felt emotionally drained.

Sam exhaled while nursing his coffee mug. "Long story short, I met Jess in Stanford, on my second year. She was in med school. And it clicked immediately, you know?"

Dean nodded while his brain was buzzing doing some calculations. He frowned. "Dude, you already were in Stanford when I joined the academy and you didn't tell me about her!"

"It was new, I wanted something solid before we made it official to our parents." Sam explained with drooping eyes that Dean used to call "puppy eyes".

Dean shook his head in dismay. "You were in third year when I left," he remembered "That's a whole two years you've been together and didn't tell?" He just could not believe it. "Dude, were you ashamed of us or something?"

"No!" Sam defended. "Of course not! It's just…" he seemed at a loss. "It was new, we didn't want to rush things. I didn't meet her parents either!"

Dean scowled, arms crossed in his chest. "Whatever dude."

Sam licked his lips and tried to regain a composure. "After you left, I was a mess. Like… I hit rock bottom. Or so I thought. Anyway, Jess was there all the way. She was supportive, helped me through. I realized she was the one. Nobody could ever be better for me than her. She was smart, funny, supportive and absolutely gorgeous. Like model-gorgeous, you know? And the best was, we were basically the same person! Same ideas, same thought about anything.

I proposed to her and she said yes. I met her parents, she met Mom and Dad and it was awesome. For a while. We moved in together, found a nice place—small… but nice. It was great for a while. But something changed. I don't know what happened. Maybe me, maybe her. Could have been anything. We started to fight more. At first for important things like what's going to happen after we graduate. She wanted to help and enroll with Doctors of the World but I thought it was too early for her. She was really young and hadn't even completed her internship at the hospital. I wanted to stay in California and start a family in a year or two, but she said I was too young and we weren't ready to settle down. And so on.

But then we argued for the smallest things… like… one time she yelled at me because I put too much pepper on her steak."

"That bitch!" Dean interrupted.

"No Dean. No, don't do that… please don't," Sam pleaded with a frown. "Hear me out okay?"

Dean pursed his lips and kept quiet.

"I was at fault too," Sam continued. "I was even worse than her. At one point, I even accused her of cheating with Brady! Brady was a friend of ours who had a crush on me. On me, not her! It's like I was looking for a fight. I remember I was angry all the time and the stress of my studies didn't help." He sighed. "In the end, we broke up. It was best for both of us. That was two years ago."

"What happened next?" Dean asked, sensing there was more to the story.

Sam hesitated, he ran a hand in his hair and seemed lost in his thoughts for a few seconds. He inhaled and sat a bit straighter. "You'd find out one day or another," he began "better it be from me."

"Sammy…"

Sam held his hand to silence Dean. "After the break up, things went bad. I lived alone, could barely take care of myself. I was in a bad place and it only got worse when I met Ruby. She was everything Jess wasn't. Like a demon, while Jess was an angel. She was ruthless, didn't take shit from anyone. She said she'd take care of me. Well, in a way she did. But she got me hooked."

"Hooked?" Dean asked. "Like…"

"Yeah, drugs." Sam exhaled loudly and cleared his throat. "It didn't last long. Six month or so but it was enough to ruin a whole year of college. Things got bad, she overdosed."

"Son of a bitch…" Dean murmured, stunned. His eyes stung a bit but he tried his best to not show it.

"She's fine now!" Sam assured him. "That's when I realized I needed help. Took me a few month to get back on track. I had friends who helped a lot. Well, one in particular who didn't give into my shit and who literally kicked my ass into getting better."

"Mom and Dad… do they know?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. I told them when I got better. It was the most difficult thing I ever had to do." He shook his head and looked into his coffee mug. "I never thought it would hurt them so much. Dad—he cried. Then he tore me a new one." Sam chuckled. "I deserved that. Mom was something else. She went back to California with me and stayed for a few months, giving me time to get back on my feet, get ready for the bar exam, helping me when I got weaker. She was there, you know? I'm all good now. All clean, with a good job and in a steady and healthier relationship." He smiled. "Now you know what happened." He chuckled. "Took me longer to explain than I thought!"

"Shit, man…" Dean managed to say. "I'm—I'm sorry…" It was worse than he imagined. Dean thought breaking up with his fiancée would have been terrible, but this… this was a whole new level. How could his baby brother use drugs? It was his fault… for sure, it was Dean's fault. Had he been there, nothing would have happened. He could have prevented it!

"For what?" Sam wondered.

Dean swallowed with difficulty. "For not being there for you. It was my job to look after you and… man, this is so fucked up…" He ran a hand over his face. "I should have been there."

Sam shook his head. "No Dean. This—this is on me! It was my choice, I didn't think of the consequences. And to be honest, it was bound to happen. I always felt this anger inside me and if it wasn't with Ruby, it would have happened with someone else. I did that and now I'm managing. I'm better Dean. Better than I ever was."

Despite Sam's words, Dean knew it was his fault. He couldn't protect his baby brother and that was on him.

"I'm here now," he said, still struggling to not let his eyes water. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm here and I wanna help."

Sam sneered then shook his head.

"You don't believe me." Dean said matter-of-factly, trying to not get offended because Sam was right, he could not have counted on Dean so why should he now. "I get it, it's too soon and we're not there yet. But I swear Sam, I'm here for you."

Sam drummed on the table for a few seconds, eyes narrowing and fixed on his brother. Suddenly he took his smartphone out of his pocket and typed furiously.

"Sammy?"

"One sec."

Dean waited patiently. That gave him time to gather his thoughts. He felt miserable and useless for letting his brother down. He should have been there. And now, nothing would ever hurt Sam ever again, he promised himself. He would watch over him, just like when they were kids. He would prove himself to Sam again, be his big brother and best friend again. He mentally showed all his self-hatred deep down and started to plan what he could do to gain his trust.

"Hey, Dean? How's the Impala doing?" Sam suddenly asked.

"Perfect shape, why?"

"Remember when you called? You asked me to come here, do a leap of faith."

"Yeah, I remember." Dean answered with a little hesitation and at a loss where the discussion was going.

"Get this, if we leave now, we can be there at 9pm!"

"Be where? What are you talking about?"

"Lawrence! We can drive to Lawrence and come back tomorrow or Monday! And we can share the wheel, you don't have to drive all the way!"

"What?! You want to go to Mom and Dad?"

"Yeah!"

"No! No way! Not yet!" Dean refused, hands up and shaking head. "It's too early for me to show my face again! I need to be ready Sammy."

Sam scoffed. "You're as ready as you'll ever be! Come on! Let's do this! No need to delay it further!"

"Sammy, I said no!" He flatly refused.

"Dean, if you want to make it up to me, now's the occasion! Come on!" Sam repeated his voice a little stronger than before.

"Sammy, Dad will kill me if he sees my face! And if not Dad, Mom will kick my ass so hard I'll fly all the way to Russia!"

"Exactly!" Sam exclaimed. "That's why you have to do it now! I'll be there, I can be the buffer. Come on! Do this for me! And I haven't seen them in a long time!" he pleaded.

Dean let out a long hard sigh as he bent and hit his forehead on the table. "Alright," he said, voice muffled.

"Yes!"

While still slightly hitting his head, Dean raised his forefinger. "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole. We good?"

Sam laughed, obviously proud of his victory. "Yeah, we good," he agreed.

They did not waste any more time and left the diner, leaving a generous tip to the waitress. They drove back to the apartment, packed just enough to spend the night. They then found the nearest tank station and while Dean filled the Impala, Sam wandered around and made a phone call to what Dean thought would be his significant other. Sam insisted he wouldn't call their parents to let them know ahead. He wanted to see their faces. Maybe he was a bit of a sadist, Dean thought.

Ten minutes later, Dean was entering the interstate, AC/DC blasting through the speakers, the wind ruffling their hair.

(***)

During all their drive, they only stopped once for Sam to stretch his legs. They talked about everything and nothing, remembering their childhood in Lawrence, how many times Dean got in trouble with the fathers of his girlfriends.

"Not my fault, Sammy!" he said. "Everyone wants a piece of me. I'm just that good!"

"Riiiight…" Sam sneered. "What about your gay thing?"

"My what?" Dean almost screeched.

"Your gay thing! Remember? A few weeks before you joined the Academy. What was his name again? Aaron?"

Dean forced a smile while eyeing his brother. "Ah! Uh… Yeaaaah, I remember. It was a huge misunderstanding actually."

"What?!" Sam squeaked. "He was literally glued to your shoes! For weeks!"

Dean nodded, thinking about that goofy-looking kid. He hesitated to tell the whole story to Sam, but it was long, a bit sad, and Dean did not want to dwell on it. It was over a long time ago. He decided to tell only half the truth.

"Turns out he thought I'd sell him pot." He explained.

"Seriously?" Sam wondered.

Dean nodded again. "Yeah. Crazy, right? He was a nice guy though."

Sam raised his brows, watching Dean carefully. "And… did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Sell him pot?"

"No! Of course not! Sammy, seriously dude?! Not cool!"

"Just askin'!" he shrugged.

As soon as they passed Hamilton, Dean stopped talking and despite Sam's best efforts, he could not get anything out of his brother that wasn't a grunt. Dean literally white-knuckled the steering wheel and his thoughts were lost in the speech he was about to address his parents. Part of him actually wished they were out for a weekend somewhere, but knowing their Dad, it was unlikely.

He turned the volume up, trying to bury his fears in loud guitar solos, totally ignoring Sam's protests.

The rest of the drive was painful for both Sam and Dean. Sam tried to reason his older brother who stubbornly remained silent.

They finally reached Lawrence within the next hour, just after the sunset. Dean remembered every turn, every signal of his hometown despite noticing some changes here and there but did not comment, too focused on what was going to happen soon. Either his parents will welcome him with open arms or he will be met by the end of a barrel. Yes, he was nervous and he felt his stomach burn with anxiety. He feared his father's reaction but above all he feared the look of disappointment in his mother's eyes. He was sure he would not be able to survive this.

As they made their last turn, he saw his parent's house. He slowed down and parked in front of it. It took him a minute to get his breathing to even out and let go of the steering wheel. Sam stayed quiet. Dean did not need to look at him to know there was worry written all over his face. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and exhaled loudly. His heart was beating fast. Even when facing Alastair that time hadn't scared him this much. And that was a live or die situation. Now, what could possibly go wrong? Suddenly, he imagined his mother's sad face, disappointed look on him. _Crap_. Coming here really was a terrible idea!

"It'll be alright," he heard his brother say, as if reading his mind. "You'll have to do it one day and the sooner the better." Dean turned to look at him. Ah yes, just as he thought, the puppy-face. "Just try to relax."

"You try to relax!" Dean shot back, then realized the stupidity of his sentence and groaned. Sam chuckled.

"Let's go, jerk," he said and got out of the Impala, closing the door behind him.

"Bitch," Dean mumbled but his heart was not in it. It took him several additional seconds to follow his brother. He locked the car and took a look around. The house had been repainted. From white, it was now green. The tree on its right looked a bit older, some branches were missing and the trunk was covered in lichen. The lawn and the garden were well-maintained, even more than during his childhood. He noticed some changes to the neighbor's houses but he did not really care about them.

Sam had almost reached the front door when he turned and saw Dean hadn't moved an inch from the Impala. He shook his head.

"Come on," he said in a gentle tone, smiling at his brother.

Sam's voice took him out of his daydream. He walked around the Impala and hurried along the way, passing the white picket fence. As soon as Sam reached the front door and rang the bell, Dean remained on the stairs, behind his brother and totally hidden from view thanks to his gigantic frame. If possible, his heart beat even faster and came to a sudden halt when he heard the door open and his mother's voice exclaim "Sam!" an obvious smile in her tone.

"Hey Mom!" Sam answered, smiling too.

"Is it Sammy?" he heard his father's muffled voice ask from inside the house.

"Guess who's with me!" Sam blurted.

Before Dean managed to say anything, Sam moved aside. He knew Dean was hiding behind him, that damn gigantor! He looked at his mother and tried to smile. "Hey Mom," he managed to croak with a dried mouth.

She gasped, eyes growing wide as she saw her prodigal son. Her mouth hung open and she slowly raised her hand to cover it.

"What's up, son?" he heard his father ask as his footsteps drew nearer. His large build appeared in the open and his wide smile immediately faltered as soon as he noticed him. Dean knew this would hurt, he just didn't know how much. He tried to swallow but his mouth was desperately dry.

"Dad," he simply said, looking at his father. A few seconds later, he noticed how John's hands formed a fist and red creeped over his stubble covered cheeks. He trembled. _There it is_ , Dean thought. He just knew he would get punched in the face and in all honesty, knew he totally deserved it. Maybe after the blow they would give him a chance to explain his behavior.

However, to his surprise, his Dad turned on his heel and left, walking back inside the house. Silence fell, sudden and heavy, until they heard the TV and some game analyst speaking louder than really acceptable. This seemed to push his Mom out of her shock. She took one hesitant step, then another and walked past Sam who was observing the whole scene. When she finally stood in front of Dean, he could only mutter a small "I'm sorry" before she took him in her arms and hugged him tight, tighter than he ever remembered. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and breathed hard. After a while, Dean's heart caught up and remembered how to beat. Dean circled the smaller frame of his mother and hold her just as tight.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" he whispered like a litany, voice muffled by his mother's shoulder. He continued to repeat those simple words as he felt wetness against his neck. His mother was crying. Because of him. He tried to fight back his own tears.

After a while, he was not sure for how long he held her against him, he heard Sam clear his throat and suggest to go inside.

Slowly, Mary let go of Dean, face stricken with tears. She placed her hands on his neck and forced him to lower his head. She placed a kiss on top of his forehead, just like she used to do when he was a child. He felt his heart burst with joy. Maybe coming back to Lawrence wasn't so bad after all.

Mary led them inside the house and accompanied them to the dining room, where a large wooden table with six chairs took most of the place. Nothing had changed. In the adjacent living room, John was sitting in a big sofa, facing the television and still watching some football game. However, Dean noticed the volume was slightly lower than before and when Mary threw her husband a sideway glance, he dropped the volume a bit more.

Dean followed Sam and sat next to him, in the spot he used to occupy five years ago, facing the living room. Mary took place in front of him. She quickly dried her tears and smiled to Dean, who felt his heart skip a bit. He had missed his Mom so damn much!

"So," she started, her attention focused on Dean, "there must be a lot to talk about."

Dean tried to smile and nodded. He kept his hands under the table, rubbing them against his jeans on his thighs. He felt so small and vulnerable and already drained just thinking about going through all the explanations again. His mother must have sensed his unease and turned to look at Sam who seemed relaxed and was staring at Dean, waiting for him to speak.

"Sammy, I'm so glad you came to visit." She said as she took his hand and squeezed a little. "How is Gabe doing?" she asked.

"All good, same old." He replied with a smile.

Dean turned to Sam and smiled wide, happy for change of topic. "So, Gabrielle? That's her name?" he grilled his brother. "Sounds French. You sly dog!"

Mary faced Dean, frowning. "What? No."

"Mom…" Sam said, trying to interrupt her.

"His name is Gabriel." She said. Behind her, John snorted and shook his head. She looked at Sam. "Didn't you tell him?"

"Not just yet." Sam grimaced.

Dean recoiled slightly, head spinning and met his brother's eyes. "He? A dude? You're gay now?!"

Sam sighed and shot a pained look at his mother who shrugged apologetically. "Not gay, bisexual, Dean."

John snorted louder. Mary turned around and shot him a stern glare. She faced Sam again.

"I'm sorry, honey. I just thought…" she looked at Dean who was still staring at Sam, eyes wide. "I'll make some coffee."

She got up, crossed the dining room and disappeared in the kitchen.

Sam let out a loud sigh and gave an annoyed look to Dean.

"Is this going to be a problem?" Sam asked which seemed to shake Dean back into reality.

"No…" he shook his head. "No! But, why didn't you tell me? We talked about it."

Sam swallowed. "Knowing your past records with women, being the manly-man you are, I just thought it would be best to talk about this later, you know? First get to know each other again, then, me coming out."

Dean frowned. "Dude, how did you think I would react? You're still my brother! Whatever floats your boat, man!"

Sam licked his lip. Dean noticed the quick glance he shot their father. "Not everybody is accepting." He explained. Dean did not need any other hint. He nodded slowly.

"I get it," he said. "I do!" he affirmed when Sam shot him an unimpressed look. "And this err… this Gabriel, how is he?"

Sam half-smiled, half-grimaced. "He has his moments." Seeing Dean flinch and hearing his Dad grunt at the exact same time, Sam laughed. "We'll talk about this later."

Dean forced a smile, then nodded. He couldn't say he was happy about it. Learning his brother was bi and had a male lover, that was sort of important, right? Kind of? His thoughts then wandered from Sam to Benny. He remembered a particular moment a few years back and wished he hadn't. He forced the memory away. This was definitely not something he wanted to think about and the deeper he buried it, the better it would be. Somehow, he had hoped Sam would have trusted him more and knew Dean would not flip out learning about his bisexuality. But he really could not blame him, not after these five long years.

A few minutes later, their Mom returned with three mugs full of coffee, milk and sugar on a large tray. She sat it in front of them and took one. She sweetened her cup and took a sip. Dean felt slowly uncomfortable. No one was talking, Sam seemed absorbed in his coffee mug, just as Mary, while John focused on the football, having not turned his face once, though Dean suspected he listened to everything that was being said.

"Dean," Sam started after a while "didn't you have something to say?"

Dean looked down and tried to gather all the courage he had before facing his parents.

"So, err…" he began a bit sheepish "Not dead!" he let out a nervous laugh. "And no Russian stripper either, just so we're clear." He looked at his Mom and smiled. She stared at him, totally unimpressed. _This is where Sam got his patented bitch face_ , Dean thought. He disguised his laugh in a cough.

"Have you heard about the Crowley Organization?" he asked his mother.

She nodded. "Yes, I've heard on the news. It has been taken down some weeks ago? All members are now in prison if I remember."

"Yes, that's the one," Dean confirmed. He glanced at Sam who smiled at him, reassuring. "I actually helped in that."

Mary let out a surprised gasp. "You did?"

"Yeah."

"What happened?" she asked.

"Well…" he hesitated "I heard and saw things here and there," he shrugged, not really wanting to tell the whole truth, knowing exactly what kind of questions that would raise. The same Sam asked that very morning.

"But how? You were finishing the Academy and you just disappeared! How could you possibly have helped?" she argued, doubtful about what she was hearing.

Dean licked his lips and hesitated. It was alright to tell the truth to his brother because, well – it's his brother after all! – but did not really want his parents to know he was part of the mob. He did not want to be judged for his actions. He valued their opinion of him way too much and wanted to avoid certain questions he knew would be asked. He really was not proud of the answers. Actually, he shoved them down in another dark part of his mind and tried not to think about it. If himself, could not deal with his actions, how could his parents?

"Oh my god," Sam sighed, surprising both Dean and Mary. "Dean! Seriously! Just spill it!"

"Sammy!" Dean warned.

"Spill what?" Mary asked.

"It's just—" he started before Sam cut him.

"He was an undercover cop!" Sam told her. "Alright? He was an undercover cop and infiltrated the organization. And thanks to him, the police could take it down."

Dean glared at his brother who shot him a smirk before taking a gulp of his coffee mug.

"Dean, you were?" Her voice was calm but her eyes showed concern.

"Yes, I was. But now I'm joining the force again, as a regular cop," he said. "Nothing fancy!" he assured with a small laugh that did not ring good in his ears.

Silence fell. Dean noticed the football comments were off and saw his father look directly at him with a surprised expression. He knew what was coming next. He just knew it.

"You were part of the organization," Mary repeated, totally disbelieving. "It was… I heard they committed some horrible crimes…"

Dean nodded. "That's why it had to be taken care of."

"Did you hurt people?" his father suddenly asked, making everyone turn toward him. "Did you kill people?"

 _And there it is_ , Dean thought. He pressed his lips together, caught between the need to reassure his parents and refusing to lie anymore.

"John!" Mary shouted, turning around on her chair, facing her husband.

"It's important!" he pressed on.

"No. No it's not!" She stood up and took a few steps towards John. "Our son just got back! And really, that's not a question I'm ready to ask or even hear answered. What I want, is to know that Dean is back and that he is safe!" She gestured towards Dean. "That's all I want to know."

She stood still for a few seconds, John's eyes fixed on her.

"If you can't handle it, please leave," she whispered but Dean still could hear every word. "I won't be mad and I promise I will tell you everything when you're ready."

John tensed for a bit, then slowly nodded. He did not move. At that moment, Dean noticed these past years have not been easy on his parents. His father, whom he always looked up to, seemed so much older. Grayer hair, more wrinkles and his fighting spirit almost gone. Even Mary seemed smaller, a little hunch on her shoulders, hair thinner.

Mary turned and sat back down, looking at Dean with a stern face.

"Whatever the answer, I don't want to know," she said in a very calm but a bit strained voice. "However if you need to talk about what happened, I am here for you, sweetheart."

Dean nodded and tried a reassuring smile for his mother. But he felt he had to say something that would make her feel better.

"Really, don't worry. It's nothing," he assured and saw at her face she was not the least convinced. "I'm fine! I really am! Plus there's this guy, a sorta shrink – or administrative shrink whatever – he's the one who'll give me the okay to go back on the force. So, nothing to worry, it's all good now. Even the guy says so!"

Mary seemed a tiny bit more relieved but Dean could feel she just humored him.

"He approved your reinstatement?" she asked.

"Yeah! Well… sorta. Paperwork and all. Takes a bit of time, you know? But soon!"

He hoped he had been convincing enough. He tried not to look at Sam to see his reaction and instead kept his eyes locked on his mother. He raised her chin slightly and inhaled deeply.

"Alright," she said, "let's hope for the best, then." She kept quiet for a few seconds. "So it's thanks to you that awful organization has been taken down?" she asked.

"And a lot of other guys helped. It was a huge deal and I helped a bit, yeah."

"Are you safe now? Is there any risk someone might come after you?"

Dean shook his head. "Not anymore. I had so stay off the grid for some time, giving time for the others to catch all the runaways. But now, everything is fine. I'm renting my own apartment in Chicago and I even got the Impala back!"

"The Impala?" John suddenly asked. "You still got that car?"

"Course I do! She's parked outside," he gestured over his shoulder "and she's as good as always! You saw Baby," he nudged his brother with his elbow "she's in good shape, right Sammy?"

"Oh no!" Sam said in a warning tone. "Don't get me involved in your weird car-fetish. That's your thing! Not mine!"

"Hey!" Dean protested.

"And Dad's," Mary added flatly.

"Hey!" John protested, mirroring Dean, making Mary chuckle and immediately breaking the tension that had been floating around. "Hey, Dean? Does she still make that rattle noise?"

"Nah, fixed her a long time ago." Dean said. "I got better at mechanics! I can fix any car now!"

"Even a Prius?"

"Dad, I said a car! Not a four-wheeled bicycle!"

John nodded, a little smile playing at the corner of his lips. He did not comment further.

"Dean," Mary began. "What can you tell us about these years?"

"Not much. Cause most of it is classified. But I can tell you some stuff! I work with this Cajun guy, his name is Benny. He's all kinds of awesome. Makes a mean gumbo too! And that shrink, he's the weirdest guy I've ever met. I'm not even sure he can blink. Even his name is weird. Cas-tiel or something?"

"That's an angel name, I think," Sam supposed.

"Well, an angel with a cracked chassis," Dean mumbled. "But he's a good guy I guess… I hope" he corrected. "And there's this guy I met. Taught me lots about data protection. Really helpful. Hey, I can teach you a thing or two if you want."

Mary smiled knowingly and let her chin rest on her palm "That would be lovely, sweetheart. We just need to get a computer first."

Dean opened his mouth, surprised "What?"

"Yeah, about that," Sam started, "I got a good deal for some laptops, you should get one."

"Come on, Sammy," John grumbled "you know that's not our thing."

Sam let out a loud sigh and turned to Dean. "You gotta help me here, now that you've become the nerd of the family." He ignored Dean's protest. "I've been trying to get them a small laptop to, you know, push them into the next millennium, but they still refuse."

"But why?"

Mary shook her head. "We'll talk about this another time. Dean, continue, please."

Ignoring Sam's mumble, he talked about some of his friends, some innocent people who were not involved with Crowley, like "The Roadhouse" and Jo and Ellen Harvelle. He described how to fix a carburetor with a new technique, which highly interested his father and confessed he started to like cooking, especially burgers, which made Sam laugh.

"Of course it had to be burgers! I would have eaten a whole dictionary if it were a Caesar salad!"

"Hey, not a rabbit! A man's gotta need his meat!"

"Yeah, and his cholesterol also!"

"So what, you're a health freak now?" Dean shot him but no malice was meant.

"Just as you a grease freak!" Sam retorted, making Mary laugh and smile at both of them while they continue bickering like when they were just kids.

A little before midnight, they all felt exhausted and Mary invited them to stay over, to Dean's great joy.

(***)

That Sunday morning was something Dean would always remember and cherish. He was the last one up, woken up by some laughs coming from the dining room. He left his old room where not a single item had been moved for so long, put on a jeans a t-shirt, and headed downstairs. He had slept for over eight hours which was a personal record and without a single nightmare. He felt more rested than he ever was. Once he entered the room, the smiles of both his parents and Sam welcomed him.

"Dean, come on, you're missing out on some of Gabe's stories!" Mary said while gesturing him to sit at the table.

He took a seat and greeted everyone. Then Sam continued his story, trying hard not to laugh.

"So this guy says "I'm sure I've met you before." and Gabe answers "Are you familiar with horse riding?"

Everybody erupted in laughter, even John. Mary had her head thrown back, laughing loud and unashamed. Dean noticed some tears pearling at the corner of her closed eyes. He smiled, not even needed to force it, so happy he was to see everyone enjoying themselves.

Once Mary calmed down a bit, she told Dean she would fix him a cup a coffee, which he gladly accepted.

"So," he began when his Mom disappeared in the kitchen "this Gabriel guy seems like quite a character!"

"You have no idea!" Sam confirmed. Even John nodded a bit.

"What does he do for a living?" Dean asked, trying to stir a casual conversation and avoiding questions about himself.

"Too many things to count!" Sam chuckled. Seeing as Dean expected a bit more, he continued. "Now, he owns a coffee shop in San Francisco and manages a troop of wannabe-comedians."

Dean raised his eyebrows, surprised. He really did not expect that. "Wow, that's something. So, is he a pastry chef or a comedian?"

Sam grinned. "Both actually, but talking about Gabe's professional careers would take us all day! Let's do that later, alright?"

No giving Dean much, he just nodded noncommittally. "How old is he anyway? He can't be in his twenties, right?!"

That's when he noticed the dark look Sam shot him before looking at their Dad whose good mood made way to slight annoyance. Some silent conversation went on between both of them while Dean was wondering what exactly was going on.

John turned and faced Dean with a stern expression. "Son, in case Sam _forgot_ to tell you," he said, voice clearly showing signs of irritation "I have no problem with him being bisexual. I have a problem with Gabriel being thirteen years older!"

"Dad, that's really not the time and place to discuss that. _Again_ ," Sam replied.

John answered back and their bickering slowly started to grow into a fight. Dean did not pay real attention, as it was quite common for both to butt heads. However, using his fingers, he counted the estimated age of said Gabriel.

"Forty?!" he shouted, finally reaching the count. "The guy is forty!"

"Ah!" John exclaimed, gesturing toward Dean, while Sam growled a loud "So what?!" at the same time.

Immediately, Dean held both hands in the air, trying to defuse the situation.

"Hey, as long as he can get it up…"

"Dean!" both shot back at him.

"And keep it up!" they heard Mary's voice coming from the corridor.

"Moooom!"

"Mary!"

Both their cries were followed by Mary's laugh. Soon after, she appeared with the same large tray filled with milk, sugar, coffee, mugs and biscuits. Immediately, John and Sam went back to smiling and looking happy. They rushed to refill their cups and to get the chocolate-covered biscuits. Dean looked at them completely amazed. After a few seconds, he caught his Mom staring at him, her chin resting on her palm, elbow on the table. She too was smiling, seemingly content at having her son back.

"Thanks Mom," Dean said, his voice a little rougher than he wished, his throat tight with emotion he did not want to feel or even be seen feeling. But he knew a Mom just knows. Mary kept smiling at him. After a little while, she slipped her hand across the table and took his, squeezing slightly in a reassuring gesture. Dean felt his heart burst with love. Damn he missed her! Damn he missed them! Damn he missed all of this! After the first three years, he had managed to believe the lie he told everyone: both parents died in a fire when he was a kid. The last two years, he refused to even think about them because it was too hard for him: never knowing when he might be allowed to see them, never knowing when the mission would end. Finally, when Captain Singer allowed him to contact his family again, he was absolutely sure he had not missed them that much, and surely enough they were happy he was gone. The brain really has a way to create lies and to believe in them when the pain is too great.

Silently cursing his grey cells, Dean tighten the hold of his mother's hand. He knew he had work to do in regard of his emotional well-being and acceptance, but now was just the time to rejoice and learn to be a family again.

After a little while, everybody agreed to go out and have lunch. They all showered, got dressed and met in the living room. After a slight hesitation from Dean, he agreed to let John drive the Impala. It was his before it was Dean's after all. Mary sat next to him while Sam and Dean sat in the back.

They reached a small family restaurant after a few minutes' drive.

"Most of the places you knew shut down," Mary explained "but there are some new ones which are nice."

"Yeah, they couldn't survive without Dean buying all their hamburgers every day!" Sam exclaimed with a laugh.

Dean shook his head, trying to retort something witty but obviously his brain was shutting down.

"Do you remember Missouri?" John asked.

"Of course." Dean answered, while throwing glares to his little brother.

"That's her restaurant. She opened it about two years ago."

They pulled in the parking lot and after a short walk, entered the small establishment. It was a bit before noon, but most of the seats and tables were already taken, except one last on opposite side.

Only seconds later, Missouri appeared from the kitchen, drying her hands on a dishcloth that hang on her apron waist.

"Mary! John! So happy to see you!" she welcomed them. "Come on, take a seat!" she steered them to the vacant table.

They both greeted her warmly, hugging and smiling.

"Sam, it has been a while. Did you grow some more?" she asked while hugging him.

"Always growing, always learning!" he chuckled, his huge arms circling the littler woman.

Dean couldn't help but snort at that cheesy sentence.

"Dean," Missouri said, walking up to him. Suddenly Dean felt like a little child again, all his bravado falling before the hard look those stern brown eyes shot him. "Am I glad to see you, alive and in one piece, and still with that troubled tongue of yours!"

Dean tried to protest but found himself in a tight embrace. He heard Sam chuckle next to him while his parents were sitting down, probably enjoying the scene too.

"And you're back for good this time?" she asked, looking straight at him.

"Yes Ma'am," he replied as best as he could.

"Good." She nodded, then gave him a quizzical look. What she saw must have satisfied her as she gave him two little pats on his cheek and nodded again, her eyes a little softer. "Go on now, boy. Go sit with your parents, you have a lot to talk about!"

He immediately did as ordered, sitting next to Sam.

"Told you he'd come back," Missouri said to Mary before leaving for the kitchen.

Dean watched her plump silhouette leave behind the counter, then exhaled. "Man, she's something!"

"She sure is," John confirmed with a smirk.

"Missouri helped us a lot," Mary said with a light voice that mismatched her sad eyes. "While you were gone. It was…" she sighed, looking for the right word. "It was difficult. But Missouri always said you'd be back one day, and not to worry because it just wasn't the right time."

John nodded slowly, taking his wife's hand in his. "She was really supportive," he simply added.

Dean felt his heart sink. They did not breach the subject on how much his parents suffered because of him and he was at a loss for making amends. "I'm sorry," he muttered after looking between his mother and father. "I really am."

A small part of his mind kept thinking that all the good he did must somehow balance the bad deeds, but he just could not believe it. He should have handled it better.

"Hey," Sam suddenly said, nudging him in the ribs with his elbow "word of advice: don't criticize the tea."

"The tea?!"

"Oh yes!" Mary agreed. "Don't say anything about the tea." She then gave everyone a menu, leaving Dean hanging about the meaning of this.

A few minutes after, Missouri showed up, ready to take their orders. When asked what they wanted to drink, she objected when Dean asked for beer. "Nu-huh, no alcohol here, boy. We're not that kind of establishment!"

"Sooo, what do you suggest?" he asked, not seeing his brother's eye go wide.

"I'll bring you my specialty!" she answered with a solid nod, then left to prepare their dishes.

"Ooooooh boy!" Sam laughed, soon imitated by John and Mary.

"What?!" Dean asked.

"Nothing." Sam answered.

"You'll see soon enough." John added with a smirk.

Just a couple of minutes later, Missouri brought their drinks. Water for Mary and Sam, lemonade for John, and a tall glass of a brownish liquid.

"Come on, don't be shy," she said after handing the glass to Dean, "try it!"

With very little confidence but wanting to be polite, Dean held the glass to his lips and took a hesitant sip. Instantly, the taste of black tea filled his mouth. He drank some more and immediately regretted it. It was too sour and strong for his taste. He cringed and set it down in front of him.

"Boy, you better not whine about it being too strong!" Missouri warned him. "Sugar is bad for you!" She shook her index in Dean's direction.

"It's good!" Dean hurried to say. "Strong tea, but good tea!"

She smiled and let her fists rest on her wide hips. "That's better." Satisfied, she left their table and dealt with her other customers.

"Told you," Sam half-sang, slowly getting on Dean's nerves.

"Well good for you!" he retorted in the same tone as his brother, making John and Mary chuckle at their continuous bickering.

They savored their meal, which was quite simple but tasty. Dean's hamburger had just the right amount of crispy bacon, Sam's salad was fresh and crunchy, Mary's chicken tender and savory, John's steak juicy just the way he loves. Everyone had ice cream for dessert and all had a great time.

They talked mostly about people in Lawrence, what changed. Just before dessert, Pastor Jim came by and greeted them, pleasantly surprised by Dean's presence but not asking any question about his absence. They listened to some of Gabriel's latest crazy ideas, to which Dean really started to wonder what kind of guy he was and tried not to judge.

He heard about businesses closing down while others opened, learned about some old neighbor who passed away, some newborns two houses over. All these news seemed little, perhaps uninteresting for the outsider, but for Dean it meant a lot. He slowly reconnected with the city, saw a glimpse of his parents' life, and realized what a normal life should look like.

They left the small restaurant a little after two, drove around the city where Dean was shown what had happened, then went back to the family house. They continued talking about small things and smaller news, sharing stories, Dean even managing to tell some anecdotes.

Finally, Mary convinced them to stay one more night and drive back to Chicago the next day. Too eager to spend time with his family, Dean gladly agreed, under the amused look of his brother.


	4. Chapter 4

"It was nice," Sam said after more than an hour of silence. "Don't you think?"

"It was great, Sammy. Not nice, great! Awesome!" Dean approved enthusiastically, making Sam chuckle.

"Sooooo, not a bad idea to force you to come to Lawrence, then?" he continued.

"Not a bad idea."

"It really went well."

"Yes it did."

"Sooooo, who's the best brother ever?!" Sam asked. When Dean turned to look at him he held his finger in front of him, then pointed at him, a wide smile on his face. Dean made an exaggerated eye roll, then chuckled.

"You were right, dude. You're the best brother I've ever had!" he retorted.

"I'm your only brother, jerk!"

"Hey, who knows, maybe we have another brother somewhere." Dean suggested.

Silence suddenly fell, both imagining their mother's reaction when finding out her husband had cheated on her.

"Naaaaah," they concluded. "He wouldn't be alive."

"Mom would have chopped him and made dog food out of him."

"Yeaaaah…"

For most of the drive, they either kept silent or talked about their childhood. But Dean had a question in the back of his mind and did not know how to breach that topic. After turning and returning it in his head, he finally decided to use the direct approach.

"Sammy?"

"Hmm?"

"When you told Dad you're bi, how exactly did he react?"

Sam took a short breath and turned to shot a glance at Dean. His jaw clenched a little.

"There was a lot of screaming, as you can imagine. Mom was totally alright with it. But Dad, he yelled, saying it was just a phase, that I had to choose and whatnot. I was staying the week with them at that time and thought it was a great idea to out myself on the first day!"

He laughed and shook his head, eyes focused on his hands resting on his knees.

"After some errr – harsh words from Dad, he asked if I was seeing a girl or a guy. I told him I was dating Gabriel. He cooled off a bit."

Dean frowned. That was not making sense.

"Why would he throw a fit then be alright if it was that Gabriel guy?!"

"Gabe was the one who helped me when I was using. Actually, he helped a lot and they knew about him. Maybe they viewed him like an angel saving their son, I don't know." He shrugged. "Anyway, he stopped yelling, asked more questions, and then stayed in his room." He laughed. "It was three in the afternoon! And he did not get out before the next morning."

He licked his lips before continuing the story. "I think Mom knocked some sense into him cause the next day, he was alright with the idea of me being bisexual. But suddenly, Gabriel being older than me was a big deal." He looked back at Dean. "I don't know, maybe he needs something to complain about. You know he's not getting any younger and he always liked to grumble about this or that. So better complain about my boyfriend's age than criticizing his own son." He scowled. "Maybe."

Dean nodded, listening and remembering carefully everything Sam told him.

"Why?" Sam asked. "Are you planning on coming out too?!"

Dean scoffed. "Pfff, me?!" He laughed it off and turned the volume high enough that talking over AC/DC would be useless.

(***)

They reached Chicago late in the evening. They stopped at a dinner but did not stay long. They were both a bit tired after those past two days. Not that they did much, but it was a bit emotionally draining, especially for Dean. On the ride back, Sam opened up a bit more. Despite not linking those chick flick moments, Dean was glad Sam was willing to try be his best friend again, like when they were kids. After all, and according to Sam, he had missed his big brother, but knowing that he would not be able to cope with another of Dean's disappearing act, he preferred to keep his emotional distance for now before being too involved. Dean could only understand, though it still hurt to hear it so directly from Sam. He had laughed while saying he was strongly convinced that Dean had to gain his trust back. And Dean knew that was no joke but only the barest truth. Sam concluded that so far, Dean really did great and was more open than ever before. But time was key and Sam assured they would get there. Dean only wished he were right.

Once they finished their meals, they returned to Dean's apartment where they shared a last goodnight before they fell asleep, Sam in Dean's room and Dean on his couch.

Strangely, Dean woke up first, which came as a surprise as Sam was usually the early bird. He noticed the light coming through the kitchen windows and realized it was almost noon. He stood up and prepared the coffee. After a few minutes, he started to really need to relieve his full bladder, but did not want to wake his brother up. He walked to his bedroom door and knocked twice.

"Yeah!" he heard his brother answer.

When Dean opened the door, he found Sam showered and fully clothed, sitting on his freshly made bed, a computer on his knees and his mobile stuck between his shoulder and ear.

"Hey, mind if I use the bathroom real quick?" Dean asked.

Sam quickly glanced at him then focused back on his laptop. He waved towards the bathroom and frowned.

"That doesn't make sense," he said "why would he invest that much while knowing they would face charges?" He clicked furiously on his computer then sighed. "Look at August 2013 and September 2013. See that?"

Dean only hesitated a second before hurrying to the bathroom to relieve himself. He then decided that, as his brother was busy with work, he could shower and get dressed.

Thirty minutes later, he felt so much better. Clean shaven and a fresh set of clothes, he was ready to face the new week!

He let Sam deal with whatever was going on at his work and started cleaning up the little mess they made so far. Once his mugs were spotless, his couch looked like a couch again and what little surface he had was now dustless, he knocked on his bedroom door again.

"Sammy?" he asked, not wanting to disturb his brother too much.

"Yeah?"

He entered the room and saw his brother in the same position as before but now his mobile was off and laying on the duvet.

"Work, huh?" Dean said.

Sam sighed again and Dean started to wonder when his brother caught this habit. "You can say that. I took the day off but obviously these words are unknown in their vocabulary!" He shook his head and looked from his screen to Dean. "You wanna eat something?"

"Yeah, I'm starving!" he declared. "But if you're busy, I can get us something from the store and make some sandwiches or something."

Sam hesitated, clearly torn between his work and his brother. "Nah, let's go eat somewhere and you can show me around, some landmarks and stuff."

"For real?" Dean asked, unable to contain his joy.

"For real," Sam confirmed. "First time in Chicago, let's make it count!"

"Awesome!"

They did not waste any more time. Sam shut his laptop down in a swift and somewhat annoyed motion, then followed Dean. They got their jackets and less than a minute later were sitting in the Impala, ready to roam the city.

They spent the whole afternoon driving around, sightseeing famous monuments and buildings like the Tribune Tower, the Chicago Theatre and the Victory Monument to Sam's delight. To Dean's misery, they found a small restaurant serving organic fruits and vegetables. _Damn these smartphones!_ Dean thought. He totally refused to admit it aloud but his eggplant parmigiana was delicious.

When they reached Dean's apartment around seven, Sam had little time to prepare his bag. Fortunately, it only took him a couple of minutes to gather everything and throw it in his backpack.

Dean drove to the airport and parked at the end of the parking lot, making once again sure no one would dent his Baby. They went to the counter where Sam got his boarding pass. Finally, before Sam headed to the boarding gate, Dean squished his brother in a bear hug. During all that time, they did not talk much. However, when Dean finally let go, Sam kept a hand on his shoulder.

"Dean," he started with a weak smile on his lips, "how do you feel about a trip to San Jose? To meet Gabe and all?" he asked, replacing a strand of hair behind his ear.

Dean felt like a weight just fell off his shoulders. "That'd be—yeah! That'd be awesome!" he beamed. "Can't wait!"

With a wide smile, Sam nodded. "Don't be a stranger, Dean," he finally said after they hugged one last time and he had to catch his plane.

Dean left the airport feeling lighter than he had in years. Despite some hiccups along the road, that weekend went great! He couldn't wait to tell Benny about it and for sure Cas would be glad to hear it too!

Never stopping smiling, he drove back to his apartment and fell on his couch, then watched some medical show on TV. It really was a great weekend.

(***)

Wednesday came all too fast and too slow. Dean managed to stay occupied all of Tuesday and called Benny to tell him about his weekend. Despite being glad for Dean, his old friend seemed a bit off but when asked, he said he was just tired. Dean knew to not press further, Benny would come to him if need be. Well, he hoped he would.

When he sat in front of Castiel, he eagerly waited for the not-doctor to ask him about his weekend. Castiel must have sensed it as he gave a knowing smile when he finally questioned him.

"It was awesome!" Dean told him, a huge smile on his lips. "I have to tell you, Doc, I was a bit…" he hesitated.

"Scared?" Castiel suggested. "Still not a doctor." He added.

"Not scared!" Dean rebuffed before caving in. "Okay, shit scared," he sighed, wiping his hands on his jeans. "Seeing my brother, then my parents… after all these years. I was pretty sure Sammy would deck me!" he laughed. "My Dad too! But no. They were cold at first, which is logical I guess, then it was real nice. Like when I was a kid, you know?"

Castiel nodded, an understanding look in his eyes. "I did not expect you to meet with your parents yet," he admitted. "It really is a great step in the right direction." He then encouraged Dean to talk further.

"Yeah I guess," he chuckled. "And my Dad was… he changed," he confessed.

"For the better?" Castiel asked.

"Yeah, I think so. He's less, err… I don't know. But he's good now."

"How about your mother?"

Dean looked down to his hands on his thighs. He knew he was smiling but couldn't refrain. He was just that happy. "She's good." He said. "She's even better! She's awesome."

"Did you tell your parents about your experience?" Castiel asked.

"I had to," Dean explained. "Otherwise they'd throw me to the wolves!"

"Did you tell them everything?" he insisted.

Dean frowned a bit, not entirely sure about what Castiel meant. Perhaps Lisa and Ben. Or his actions?

"No," he answered "not everything."

Castiel nodded and wrote a few words in his notebook. He then asked several questions about his time with his parents, with his brother, what his plans were. Dean's answers must have been satisfying because he saw Castiel's little smile on the corner of his lips. Apparently he did the right thing. Well, thanks to Sammy pushing him, he did.

They talked a bit more and finally ended their session with Dean talking about some of his childhood memories, how he used to storm around on his bike with Sam on the handlebar, that one time they crashed so hard Dean thought Sam broke his arm. Or when Sam brought home a stray dog covered in fleas and they found out their Dad had a severe allergy.

"These are nice memories, Dean," Castiel commented when the hour was almost over.

"Yes, they are," Dean said, smiling. "With Sammy, we're planning to meet them again around Christmas. This time with his boyfriend. He seems like a handful."

"I'm sure you'll have a great time," Castiel encouraged him.

(***)

The call came on Monday morning. It was just a bit after ten. Dean was drinking his third mug of coffee while thinking about some activity he really should do. Maybe get a subscription at a gym or something. He was getting seriously bored as days gone by and he already watched all reruns of his favorite TV shows. As soon as his phone rang, he jumped to answer it.

"Hey Benny! What's up?" he asked. "Everything alright?"

"Better than ever, brother," the gravelly voice of his friend answered. "Have some good news actually."

He sat a bit straighter, his mind immediately imagining something about getting that damn paper from Cas, but he dared not get his hopes too high. "Alright, shoot."

"Just got out of a meeting with Captain Singer. We had a call with Castiel Novak."

"Okay…"

"Cap received his signed approval to reinstate you last Friday. He needed some clarification about…" Benny took a deep breath. "About Lisa and Ben." he finally admitted. "But seems you're all good!"

"So… what. I can come back to the precinct? Tomorrow?" Dean asked, not really believing what he was hearing, and trying his best to shut the light sting in his heart.

Benny let out a loud laugh. "Not that fast, brother, but yeah. You can come back. Cap is pushing for all your stuff and desk be ready for next week. Apparently he had already asked for some stuff the day your assignment ended."

Dean nodded. That was a lot to take in. He really needed to thank his boss. Captain Singer really was the best.

"Cap said you had to show your ugly mug - his words not mine - next Monday. He wants to go through some stuff with you before you officially start." Benny explained. "Happy now?"

"Yeah! It's… it's awesome! Thanks Benny! You're a real bearer of good news!"

He heard his friend chuckle. Dean couldn't be happier at that moment.

"Well it's about time you start working again. I swear if I receive another picture of a beer from you, I'm shoving it down your throat!"

"Hey, you love beer!" Dean protested. "All the labels were kinda cool too!"

"Yes, that's right, brother. But not ten every damn day! You seriously need an occupation!"

Dean let out a loud laugh. Benny had a point. "Well your troubles will soon go away. Starting next Monday!" he joked.

Benny let out a gruff exhale but Dean felt something was off. "Hey, Benny. You alright?" he asked, a bit more seriously.

"Yeah, I'm good." He kept silent a few long seconds before letting out a big sigh. "Andrea is… I don't know man. She's not happy. I don't know why. She's on edge since a few weeks and won't tell me why."

"Oh… that sucks, man. Maybe she just needs a change of pace? When was the last time you had a nice getaway, just the two of you?" He swore he could hear him make a face. "Yeah, that's what I thought. You gotta be more present for her."

"Yeah I know. I'll ask her, maybe a nice week-end in the woods, in a nice cabin."

"Good idea! You'll figure something out!" Dean encouraged him.

They exchanged a few jokes then hung up after Dean promised to be in Captain Singer's office next Monday, 9am sharp.

He let himself fall back on his couch. That was it. That was finally it. He was joining the force again. As a grunt, a traffic cop or something most likely, but he just did not care. He was back in and that was the best news of the week! Well, it was only Monday but he was sure nothing could be any better.

(***)

Dean spent all his Tuesday pacing in his tiny apartment. He had cleaned, called Benny, called Sam, called his parents who were a bit startled as they did not expect him to give news that soon but still glad to hear about his reintegration in the force. He hesitated to call Castiel but he guessed that he already knew. Benny also confirmed that he did not need to go see him anymore as the paper was signed. It was this end of their weekly appointment to which Dean was both a bit sad and relieved.

But all his activities did not prevent his thoughts to circle to the one person he did not want to think about. Lisa. He wanted to see her, to finally come clean by telling her the truth. Actually, he needed it more than wanted it. He guessed that was what people called "wanting closure". Though he knew that seeing her again would break his heart. He really cared a lot about her and loved her son like his own. They were his family, whether they wanted him as part of theirs or not. Also, a small part of his battered ego sought forgiveness and maybe if they knew he was not part of a mob, then maybe… perhaps…

He dared not hope or even go further into his internal discourse. Which is why he decided to meet them the very next day.

He woke up early, showered and put on his lucky clothes. An old AC/DC t-shirt with equally old jeans and his brownish leather jacket. He did not dwell too much whether he was doing the right thing or just unburden himself. He especially avoided thinking about their reaction.

After an hour long drive, he reached their house. Nothing had changed in the almost two months he was gone. He walked up to the front and knocked, the sound of his heartbeat almost deafening in his ears. His palms were sweaty like never before. Suddenly, he felt the urge to turn heels and run away. This was a bad idea. A terrible idea! He forced himself straight. He could do it! After seeing his parents after five years, how hard could it be?

Very hard.

The door swung open and Lisa stood in front of him. _Damn, she's gorgeous_ , he thought when he laid his eyes on her. She still wore her straight black hair down and her usual yoga pants with a white top.

"Dean!" she beamed, which brought all his thoughts to a halt. He certainly did not expect joy from her after that time. "Come in!" she said, all smiles while she led the way.

"Huh, sure." he mumbled.

He closed the door behind him then walked to the kitchen where he stood a bit awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

"Hey Lis. How you been?" he finally managed to ask.

"Good. Great actually!" she said. "After what happened with the organization, it has never been this peaceful."

"Yeah, I bet…"

"Since last week, I allow Ben to play outside with his friends. Near the swimming pool."

"No way!" Dean exclaimed. "You do?" Well, that was a surprise. The playground was next to a meeting point well known from the Crowley organization. It had been deserted for a long time in fear of lost bullets. You're just never too careful when the mob is your neighbor.

"Yeah. It's really quiet. I don't know for how long, but it's time we all enjoy ourselves. I have a barbecue next Sunday with friends from the yoga class."

"Wouah, good for you Lis." Dean said, really happy to see she still got her life together, even after he left. Again, he ignored the pinch in his heart. A different kind this time.

She nodded but her smile fell a little. "I honestly did not expect to see you again," she admitted.

Dean let out a sad laugh. He was not supposed to show his face again.

"So… what was it?" she asked. "Rival gang? Cop? Or you just managed to get away unarmed?"

He gave her a weak smile. "Cop," he confessed.

She hummed then nodded. "Makes sense. You infiltrated the organization or the cops recruited you?" she questioned.

"Infiltrated."

She nodded again. "Thought so." Then she smiled again. "I guess I should thank you and your buddies for clearing this mess, then."

"Huh. Sure…" he frowned. "You're not mad?" he wondered.

She shrugged. "Why?"

"Cause I lied?" he hesitated.

Lisa let out a long laugh then walked up to Dean and put a hand on his shoulder, her eyes kind and a smile on her lips. "I knew from the start you were not a guy from Crowley's. I just wasn't sure if you were a rival or a cop. Honestly, Dean, I really hoped you were a cop." Her smile grew. "Will you stay for lunch? Ben will be thrilled to see you."

"Yeah? If that's okay with you. Does Ben know?" he asked suddenly.

She nodded. "I told him. He had time to adjust."

Dean kept silent, his eyes lowered. A whirlwind of thoughts in his mind, he was at a loss about what to say.

"He cares about you, Dean," she said in a gentle voice, letting his shoulder go. "He did not mind if you were a cop or a criminal or whatever. He really enjoyed spending time with you."

He gave a nod but did not manage to speak.

"He understands," she continued with the same tone. "He will understand that you cannot stay with us."

"He's a good kid," Dean croaked with a smile. "He's a great kid!"

"He is," she approved with a smile before turning around and opening the cupboards to grab two mugs. She placed them in front of her and started the coffee machine.

"Sit," she told Dean. "We have to talk."

He took a step forward and sat on the high chair in front of him, where he used to sit for all these years. It was familiar and foreign at the same time. This was not his place anymore, he was just a guest. Maybe he always was.

Lisa poured coffee in both mugs and placed one in front of Dean.

"Extra-strong for you," she said with a smile.

"Thanks Lis".

He shrugged his jacket off and sat a bit more comfortably. This was going to take some time now that his brain slowly started to function again.

"When did you suspect?" he asked after she took her usual seat next to him.

She hummed, her eyes squinting slightly, trying to remember the exact moment.

"When Crowley came over with all his henchmen, asking where you were," she said. "You put your arms around my shoulders and told him you had been busy all night. Crowley did not believe you straight away," she admitted. "He came back after you left and asked again. I told him you spent the night with me," she explained. "Which was half-truth as you showed up on my door at the ass-crack of dawn. So technically, it was night."

"You lied." Dean realized. "And you saved my ass."

She chuckled. "Your ass is worth saving Dean!"

He smiled. "We were not even together back then." He remembered that night very well. Too well actually and really did not want any more reminders.

"Hmm. I immediately guessed you were a cop or a member of a rival gang. Either way, it would be best for Ben and myself to have you around," she explained.

"Is that why you agreed to date me?" he asked, frowning.

"No," Lisa admitted. "I really liked you. You were nice and charming, that's for sure. But you were kind to Ben and… well… did I mention your ass?" she laughed. "Having us under the protection of a rival gang or the police was a plus I had to take into consideration." She stopped and looked at Dean with her intense dark eyes. "I really liked you, Dean," she repeated. "I never lied."

"Liked, huh?" Dean said with a sad smile.

"You liked me too," she imitated with an emphasis on the verb. "But it never was love. Not like that."

"It felt like that," Dean muttered before grabbing his cup of coffee and taking a sip.

Lisa did not comment or make any comforting gesture, which was actually what Dean needed. Sympathy was not in question now, his feeling too much like a turmoil.

"What were you doing that night?" she finally asked. "If I remember well, Crowley was looking for a mole? Someone who killed his number four?"

Dean nodded. "It was a fucked up night. Crowley wanted me to interrogate a guy who was suspected to be a mole. I just left for five minutes and when I got back, his number four had just killed him. Apparently, they worked together or something. So I had to shoot him cause I have the worst timing ever. And there was no way Crowley would have believed me. I called my handler and told him all about it. He came, helped me stage the whole thing as if the Hellers killed them both. Meanwhile I called Crowley and told him number four asked to conduct the rest of the interrogation. For some miracle, he believed me. I don't know really, it was a big mess. I left with Benny and got drunk. I couldn't show my face there again. When I woke up I had like thirty missed calls from Crowley."

"Then I really was your alibi!" she exclaimed. "You really should have told me from the start."

"I didn't want to involve you. Or Ben. I wanted you safe, Lis."

"You involved us the moment you showed up at my door," she corrected him.

He lowered his gaze. She was right. He endangered them so many times and still she kept welcoming him back.

"Do you regret it? Us?" he finally asked, because he needed to hear it from her, even if he ended with a broken heart.

"No," she answered with honesty. "Never. What we had was good. You were always there for Ben. You're a good person, Dean. So, no. I don't regret anything."

Dean rose his gaze and saw what was left unsaid. "But it's over now," he finished.

"It is over," she confirmed. "I still hope to see you around from time to time."

Dean could not repress a sigh with a sad smile. "You're giving the 'let's just be friends' speech."

"Is that bad?" she asked, her head slightly leaning to the right. "To have you in our lives?"

He shook his head. "No, I'd like that." he confirmed. "Besides, Ben is still not that good at poker!"

"About that!" she interjected with a smile. "Better not, okay?"

Dean shrugged with a knowing smile "I'll let Ben decide."

She laughed and took a sip of her coffee. "What's next for you?"

"Joining the force again! Just learned the news yesterday. I'll be officially a cop!"

"Congratulations, I guess."

"Thanks."

They exchanged a long look. Dean caved in first and frowned at his empty mug. "If I drink one more drop, I will start to hear colors and see in four dimensions! I have to get used to bad coffee now. Apparently the one at the precinct is just crap."

"Oh, your life is so difficult…" she mocked.

"Coffee is important!" he insisted. "Besides, I heard they only have donuts. No pies! Unbelievable!"

She chuckled and nod very seriously. "Outrageous," she agreed.

They continued their discussion for almost two hours. Chatting about nothing and everything. Dean learned that she almost got enough money to enroll in a nurse school next September. She will be able to support both Ben and her during the two years. When asked why she never told Dean, she just admitted she never thought she would have a life without Crowley to worry about. He divulged the existence of his brother and his parents, giving a few details about them but still retelling the whole story of them meeting after five years. Her comments were really supportive and Dean was just glad to talk to her like that, without the looming shadow of Crowley over their heads.

A few minutes after noon, Ben came home for lunch. His first reaction when seeing Dean was to hug him tight. Dean felt his eyes sting a bit but tried his best to not let it show. Lisa averted her gaze and he silently thanked her for that. When he regained his composure, he tried to take a better look at Ben.

"Hey, did you become an octopus of some sort while I was gone?" he joked.

"You're coming back, right?" Ben immediately asked. "You're not leaving again?"

Dean took a deep breath. "Buddy", he started but Ben interrupted him.

"Now that Crowley is gone, you can stay!" he insisted. "There's no reason for you to leave!"

Dean shook his head "There are, I'm sorry."

Ben shrugged Dean away and turned to look at Lisa. "Mom!" he called. But Lisa only gave him a sad smile.

"Ben, things are different now," Dean explained. "And it's what's best for you and your mom. And…"

"No!" Ben interrupted again. "We don't care if you're a Heller or whatever! It's… it's better when you're around! Mom, tell him!"

"Ben, we talked about this," she said in a gentle voice. "Dean is moving out but that does not mean he won't come and see us again."

"Right!" Dean approved.

"Well this sucks!" Ben spat and turned on his heel to run upstairs, slamming the door of his room shut.

"That went well," Dean commented with a face. "I better talk to him."

"He'll come around, but it'd be good if you have a nice chat with him," Lisa approved. "If he hears it from you, he'll understand."

Dean nodded, then hesitated. "I'm sorry Lis."

She smiled at him then shook her head. "We both knew it was bound to happen. Things are different now. And without Crowley over our heads, we can actually choose our living."

He stood there a few seconds, looking at her, taking in her gentle smile, her soulful eyes. His heart ached despite knowing that this moment had to happen. He dropped his gaze. He knew exactly what he was losing and really did not want to face it.

"I'll go," he announced and headed towards the stairs. He heard Lisa pour more coffee in her mug.

Dean knocked on Ben's bedroom door. "I'm coming in." he said and opened it slightly. When no protest came, he entered the room to see the boy brooding on his bed. "Hey, Ben. Can we talk for a minute?"

"Are you leaving?" the boy asked.

"Yes, I'm sorry."

"Then there's nothing to talk about," he decided.

Dean chuckled. He really could not help it. That little kid acting like a tough grown up, with his round face and innocent eyes. "Alright, buddy, scoot over," he said and sat next to Ben. "First off, I'm not a Heller. I'm a cop. I was undercover ever since I joined Crowley's organization," he explained while Ben slightly turned his gaze toward him, intrigued. "Second, what your mother and I had was great but we have to move on. But that does not mean I stopped caring about her and her snot-nosed kid!" he added with a teasing smirk.

"Deeeeaaaaan," Ben sighed while rolling his eyes, causing Dean's heart to clench a little more. He will miss their little teasing and inside-jokes. "It happened one time!"

"Yeah and my t-shirt still remembers it!" Dean teased.

"You're lame."

"Hey, that's unfair! I'm the coolest guy ever!"

Ben rolled his eyes once more, with emphasis.

"Hey, Ben," Dean started, more seriously, "I'm still here for you. You can call me anytime and I'll come straight away. You hear? I'm just a phone call away."

Ben averted his gaze and played with his blanket for a handful of seconds.

"It's not because of something I did?" he finally asked in a voice so low Dean almost missed it.

"Of course not!" Dean exclaimed. "Ben, it's just… that's the way it is. I'm going back to being a cop and your mom will be able to live her life without having to worry about Crowley. And you, you can grow up without Crowley's henchmen hanging around. It's for the best, really."

The boy made a noncommittal hum, then looked back at Dean. "I'll miss you, Dean."

Dean felt his eyes sting. "I'll miss you too, buddy." He tried his best not let his emotions show. He had to be strong. Damn! He really loved that kid. "Remember, just a phone call away, okay?"

Ben nodded but his face only showed sadness, which was really too much for Dean. He made sure Ben was alright, then left the boy to his thoughts. He walked back downstairs and exchanged a few words with Lisa who was preparing lunch. He gave her his phone number and told her to pass it to Ben once he's feeling better. They hugged and Dean left after Lisa assured him she would pack his stuff and call when ready. She explained it was best for now if he did not show up too soon, which he agreed. He declined to stay for lunch. They both knew where to draw the line and those hours had been emotional enough.

He sat behind the wheel and started the Impala, heart heavy and silent tear running down his cheek. He loved them so much, though he had known for a while that his feelings for Lisa were not the kind she deserved nor the kind he could give to her.

He drove back to his apartment and started drinking, emptying all the beer he had stored earlier. His emotions were all over the place and he had no idea how to deal with them. When he started resenting Lisa for not wanting him back, he realized he had to clear his head. He took his phone out and started to dial Benny's number before ending the call right after it connected. He had just remembered his best friend had some difficulties with his wife, so really not the time to help Dean's broken heart. Besides, talking with Lisa about that famous night steering other feelings he wanted buried deep. Then he thought about calling Sam. But then, why would he bother him when he felt he did not really deserve his forgiveness just yet. Then, maybe Bobby? He had helped him out from time to time. But he already heard the gruff voice saying "Whaddya want me to do about it, ya idjit?!".

He felt like a champagne bottle, ready to explode, his thoughts circling from Lisa, to Ben, then Benny, back to Lisa. The more he tried to stop thinking about them, the stupider he felt for not managing it. Suddenly, he realized there was someone who was paid to listen to him!

He left his half empty beer on the table and grabbed his jacket before running down the stairs. He hurried to his car and started the engine. With a long shriek of the tires, he drove to Castiel Novak's office. That was a guy who would hear him out and not judge him. Yes, that was it!

After he parked his car in front of the building, he realized it was already dark. How long did he spent on self-pity and self-loathing? He wondered. He looked at the façade and managed to determine which window gave to Castiel's office. It was the one in front of the emergency exit on the second floor. The light was still on, so despite the late hour, Castiel was still working. Dean hesitated. He might still be with a patient, or customer, or whatever he called them. He decided to wait. Since it was already past eight, he bet Castiel would call it a day soon. Then Dean would jump in and… and what? Blurt him his emotions to the face? He snorted. Yeah, that would work…

He started his stereo, humming to Led Zeppelin. After half an hour, he really started to doubt his plan. He drummed his fingers on the door, window down, then decided to wait a few minutes more.

It was almost nine when a lady walked out of the building, the first person to do so actually. Immediately, Dean recognized the secretary. He jumped out of his car and walked up to her. As soon as he entered her line of sight, her eyes threw daggers at him, until she recalled him, she smiled, one eyebrow raised.

"Mr. Winchester," she started "what a surprise. Did you forget something?"

"Hi! errr… Miss?" Dean replied. "No, no, nothing just… you know… being in the neighborhood…"

 _Damn, that was stupid_ , he thought. _Pull yourself together!_

She waited with a non-committal "Huh."

"Yeah! Errr… is Cas still working?" he managed to ask, hoping he would not appear menacing or strange in any way.

She raised both her eyebrows and looked at him, judging him silently. Well, so much for looking normal. "Cas…tiel Novak?" she finally asked. "He's still working. Always working too much. Why?"

Dean could feel an underlying menace behind that single word. "I just want to talk to him. You know… about stuff and all."

"If it's about the bill, it's been sent and the agreement signed by your department. We won't accept any discount request." she explained a bit more coldly than Dean had hoped.

"No no, that's not it. It's…"

"You do realize that your time with Mr. Novak is completed. You will need to book additional time and sign a new contract." she said.

"No, yeah. I know." Dean admitted. "But… he's still here, right?"

She let out a long sigh. "Obviously, he is. He will leave in one hour or so."

"Okay! Okay… thanks…" Dean whispered. One hour. He could wait. He could do that. Better to wait for the not-shrink than pacing aimlessly in his tiny-ass apartment. He looked up. The window was still lit. He started to walk back to his car, but felt uncomfortable. When he looked back at the secretary, she had not moved a single foot, her eyes locked on him.

"I hope I don't need to threaten you," she started "in case anything happens to him."

He shook his head. "Seriously, you think I look like I'd hurt him?" Were they really having this conversation? By the look she gave him, she really did not trust him. Surprisingly enough, the small hair on the back of his neck tickled him, in the same way when he had to meet some dangerous people in Crowley's organization or some rivals or associates. He nodded. "It's just a talk," he assured her. "Two minutes, tops!"

"Whatever…" she waved her hand and went her merry way. Well, now he was warned.

He sat back in the front seat of his car and waited. Did Cas really work that much? Possibly he only started late in the day.

He listened to the same Led Zeppelin album again and slowly started to think he made too much of a deal of something very little. True, he met Lisa and Ben. True, they officially broke up. True, that hurt like a bitch. True, he remember that fucked up night. True, that hurt even worse but like a dull pain that never left and reminds you of its presence every rainy day. True, his thoughts were still going on a loop. He sighed. He was a mess.

After a long while, the light finally shut down. Instantly, Dean exited the Impala, locked her and stood on the sidewalk, next to the grilling separating the street from the other parking lot with a lot of shady cars. It only took a couple of minutes before Castiel left the building wearing an ill-fitted trench coat and walked towards Dean, a frown deepening on his forehead.

"Hey, Cas," Dean greeted him sheepishly.

"Hello Dean," Castiel answered. "Is everything alright?"

No! Dean wanted to shout. But where to begin? Suddenly he felt at a loss about what to say. He put his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and looked at his feet, trying to find the words. His idea of coming over what the stupidest he ever had! And he had quite a few! Where to start. Where to start?

 _Say something. Anything!_ "I saw Lisa and Ben," he blurted, avoiding Castiel's gaze.

Time came to a halt. Dean dared not look up and Castiel remained silent. It felt like the whole world stopped, waiting for Castiel's reaction to Dean's stupidity. Finally, Castiel let out a breath.

"I see…" he stopped, apparently looking for his words. "There is a diner at the end of the road. Would you like to join me?" he asked.

Dean nodded and finally looked up. Castiel's expression was all business, apart from a little frown that Dean read as concern. "I'd like that," he replied, knowing well enough that Castiel was extended a helping hand.

Castiel turned heels and Dean followed him. They walked down the street, crossed the busy road and reached the diner which appeared to be some sort of chain that offered a drive-through. However, there were some seats available and thanks to the late evening, most of them were empty.

They were seated by a young waitress, clearly over-worked but she still tried to be cheerful. Right about now, Dean did not care much about her attitude, he just needed to talk to Castiel. Her energy slightly got on his nerves. Before he could say anything, Castiel ordered two coffees, black. She then left the menus in front of them.

The moment she walked back to the counter, Castiel turned to face Dean and nodded solemnly.

"Please," he said "tell me all about it."

Having Castiel's full attention, his serious gaze completely focused on him, breached Dean's dam. He started to explain how he needed to see her, tell her the truth about him and his job, talk to Ben. He stopped to ask Castiel what information he had on them.

"I know enough," Castiel replied. "Please, go on."

Dean then explained what Lisa told him, how Ben reacted, while Castiel listened intently.

"How long have you been with Lisa?" he asked.

"Almost three years. More like, two and a big half. I thought you had the details?"

Castiel nodded. "I have some information. They did not include specific details of your sentimental life."

"So my sex life is on official records? That's just peachy…" Dean groaned.

Castiel stopped himself short of rolling his eyes. "Quite the opposite. The reports were mostly vague on that topic, which is surprising as usually everything is detailed. Maybe some parts have been redacted before handed to me. But I highly doubt that was the case. Your file is quite detailed, except for that part."

Dean barely concealed his smirk behind his hand. No doubt this was Benny's work. He'll have to thank his friend later. Speaking of thanking! "Hey, I haven't thanked you yet. For the letter. So… thank you."

Castiel smiled at him and nodded once. "You're welcome Dean."

"What made you change your mind?" Dean asked.

"You." Seeing Dean's puzzled face, Castiel continued. "You called your brother, met him, then on the same weekend drove to meet your parents. When you first came to my office, the only thing that mattered in your life was your job. It took you some time, but you are finally on the right track where your family, the same persons that were your whole life before the assignment, is also important."

Dean shook his head, disbelieving. "So what, you wanted me to be the same guy I was before the job?"

"No, of course not. I wanted you to reconnect with the persons that once meant the world to you. Also to share your experience with them, to open up and to think about the future. All this you lacked when we met." Castiel explained in a gentle voice. "To be honest, Dean, you reconnected and moved on far quicker that I thought."

Dean snorted and rolled his eyes. "Moved on, huh. I hear quite a lot of that lately."

Before Castiel could answer, the waitress was back, their coffee mugs in hand. She put them on the plastic table then took a notepad in hand to take their order. "Ready to order?" she asked with a huge smile.

"Cheeseburger and fries, please." Castiel replied, which surprised Dean as they did not even look at the menu.

"Same with a side of bacon." Dean said.

The waitress took their orders and smiled again. "Coming right up!"

Castiel peered at Dean, his eyes incredibly blue with the neon light over their heads.

"What?" Dean questioned, a bit defensive.

"The terms of your relationship with Lisa changed the moment Crowley's organization got arrested." Castiel clarified.

"The terms?!" Dean mocked. "We did not sign an agreement or anything!"

"You understand what I mean," Castiel brushed off. "She was free, not needing surveillance or anything Crowley asked of you."

"I know…"

"You, as an official police officer, are not a gangster anymore. Your activities changed. Will change. I even suppose your whole persona will be affected by this."

"Dude, I know…"

"Ben and Lisa both deserve to know on which foot to stand with you and with any important person in their lives. This is an opportunity for them to live their lives and for you to live yours."

"Dude! I said I know!" Dean repeated a bit more loudly and angrier than he wanted.

"I apologize, Dean. But I do not understand why you sought my counseling if you already understood that."

Yeah, why did he even come out here? He wondered. He let out a long sigh. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "Maybe I just needed to talk."

Castiel kept silent, observing Dean who could not deal with this intensity for more than a few seconds. He grabbed the sugar nearby and started pouring in his coffee, then with the creamer.

"Very well," Castiel said. "Then, maybe we should talk about you instead of Lisa and Ben."

"What about me?" Dean wondered, a little watchful.

"Your feelings for them." Castiel clarified to which Dean scoffed. "This is an important part of the healing process, Dean," he scolded but kept his voice calm.

"Yeah well, make an educated guess!" Dean countered, feeling slightly irritated, which was silly he knew.

Castiel gave it a little thought, frown deeper. "You love them," he finally said.

"Course I do!" Dean shot back to belittle Castiel's guess. "Give me something else, Sherlock!"

"You are sad because you will not see them again," Castiel continued.

"Yeah, one candy for you!"

"Which is not true, Dean," Castiel said. "From what I understood, Lisa and Ben need some alone-time. They do want to see you. You have been an important father-figure for Ben. I doubt Lisa wants to cut you off. Plus you have been both the boyfriend and protector for her. She seems like a smart lady. Maybe now she just needs some time for her and her son, then your friendship."

Dean gritted his teeth.

"Also, you have known from the start that your relationship with Lisa was doomed to stop the moment Crowley was behind bars or another gang taking over. You do love her but not in the 'let's spend the rest of our lives together' love. More of a protector, kind of love. Plus the mutual physical attraction, of course."

No, really, that was the stupidest idea Dean ever came up with. He did not want nor need to hear that!

"But you already knew that," Castiel concluded. "You were just not willing to face it."

"You damn son of a bitch," Dean shot between his teeth. "You think you know me, do you?" He knew he reverted to aggression whenever he felt insecure or threatened. He just could not help it. It was his defense mechanism. However, Castiel did not flinch or take it personally.

"I am good at reading between the lines," Castiel said. He let this little sentence flit between them, then took his coffee mug and drank, giving time to Dean to process all the information.

However, Dean remained silent. He thought that talking about it would help him out, but he felt even more conflicted than before, but for different reasons. He hated these feelings, hated not knowing on which foot to stand, hated to not know who to hate because it usually ended with himself being the target.

Castiel must have sensed Dean was not ready to talk. He put his mug down and stared at him for a few seconds, making Dean uncomfortable under such scrutiny.

"When will you start?" Castiel asked.

"What?"

"When will you start as a police officer again?" Castiel clarified.

"I don't know." Dean shrugged, but nevertheless relieved at the change of subject. "I'll meet Captain Singer next Monday. It's a question of bureaucracy now. Maybe next week, maybe the one after."

Castiel nodded. "Please give Captain Singer my regards."

"Yeah, sure…"

"Are you excited about joining the force again?" Castiel asked.

 _Okay, he definitely changed topic on purpose_ , Dean thought. And he had to admit he was glad for it.

"Yep. Can't wait. I don't even care if they'll put me as traffic cop or giving fines or whatever. I'm just glad I won't have to hide anymore."

Castiel hummed and drank another gulp of coffee. "Will Mr. Lafitte work with you again?"

Well shit. Right when he was getting comfortable again, that damn shrink screwed with him again. He tried to keep his face and expression in check, really not wanting Castiel to investigate there. There was nothing to investigate!

"I don't know," he tried to answer as calmly as he could. "Probably not." He took his own mug in hand and gulped down the coffee. Too sweet, too much milk, it tasted terrible. But he really was not interested in pursuing that discussion with the not-doc. "Well, I hope the burgers are better than the coffee," Dean stated, replacing the mug on the table.

"According to Meg, they're terrible," Castiel answered, lowering his voice so the other patrons and waiters would not overhear him.

"Well that's just great!" Dean sighed. "Meg, that's your… secretary?" he guessed.

"Yes. She tried it here on her lunch break but clearly she hated it." He sighed. "She kept pushing me to move the office downtown 'where the real food is'," he said, quoting with his fingers, making Dean chuckle and hoping they were not that bad.

The burgers were terrible. Atrocious actually. The meat undercooked in the middle, overcooked on the edge, the bacon was not even crispy. At least the fries were decent.

"Dude, next time, I choose where we eat!" Dean stated.

"Gladly," Castiel replied while suspiciously eyeing his burger.

They started eating their meal and agreed that really, they were over-priced and really bad.

"The meat is barely warm," Dean complained after shoveling a fry in his mouth. "I hope they have pie!"

Castiel slowly tilted his head to his right and eyed the counter. "I would not put my money on it…"

"Maybe you really _should_ move your office!" Dean lamented.

"I'll consider it when I have a good enough financial stability," Castiel replied, focusing on his half-eaten burger again.

"That so?" Dean asked. "Trouble in paradise?"

Castiel shot him an unimpressed look, then tried to save some dripping cheese on his plate with a fry.

They complained about the food some more and talked about the best way to cook a burger. It appeared they have the same taste and enjoyed digressing about different types of meals. Dean admitted he fancied some tacos from time to time, while Castiel shared his love of cheese, especially the smelly ones, while Dean made a face.

"Unfortunately, I'm forever banned to bring any of them for lunch, unless I want to face Meg," Castiel informed him. "She's even watching what I eat and forces me to eat salad at least twice a week."

"Huh. That's rough," Dean commented.

"She means well."

They finished their dinner with companionable discussion about nothing and everything. As they did not have any pie left, Dean chose to end with another cup of coffee, as did Castiel. Finally, they walked back to Castiel's office where Dean slowed down when they reached the Impala.

"How are you feeling, Dean?" Castiel asked in a serious tone, eyes locked on Dean's.

Dean hesitated. "I'm not sure yet," he replied honestly. "I have a lot to process, it might take a while, but all in all, I'll be fine."

Castiel nodded, a small smile drawing at the corner of his lips. "If you need to talk, you know where to find me."

Dean nodded, really appreciating the offer. "Thanks Cas."

After a fleeting moment, Dean looked away from Castiel and got into the Impala, started the engine and drove away, trying his best not to eye Castiel who was still watching him from the sidewalk.

He reached his apartment, realized how late it was, but since he had nowhere to be in the morning, made some more coffee and spent the night watching reruns of old TV shows. That was his way of processing his feelings. _Just, give it time_ , he assured himself. _You'll get there._


	5. Chapter 5

Dean stood stiffly in front of Captain Singer, wearing his best suit, wrinkled and ill-fitted. He had walked into the precinct right on time but his boss seemed in a terrible mood, for whatever reason. On his side, Benny was wearing his casual clothing. Dean was not entirely sure why Benny was here, but nonetheless glad of his friend's presence.

"The next idjit who's trying to tell me how to do my job, I'll smack em right back to their momma!" he grumbled after some furious clicks on his computer. "Well… Dean!" he said and focused his attention on Dean. "Things are looking good for you. Would be better if people would actually do their job! But still good." He crossed his hands in front of him. "Benny, bring Henriksen in, will ya?"

"Sure, boss!"

As soon as Benny left the office, Dean took a step forward. "Hey, Bobby, Benny told me you've been pushing to get me back."

Bobby sat a bit more comfortably in his chair. "He really cannot keep his damn mouth shut!" He sighed and Dean could almost see a smile forming behind the beard and gruff expression. "What can I say? I have it too easy! I need a trouble maker to get me home just a little later!"

"Thanks Bobby. It means a lot," Dean replied honestly. He smiled at his Captain who looked back at him with the same expression as his father, years ago, when he was happy but did not know how to show it.

Bobby grumbled, cleared his throat and sat a bit straighter. "Wait 'till I tell you about your job."

Dean frowned a little. "Okay? You know I'll be fine with anything, right? Even traffic!"

Suddenly, Bobby leaned forward and Dean thought he'd jump out of his chair to smack him over his head. "Traffic?! You lost your bloody brain cells, boy?" he snorted. "Traffic!"

A few seconds later, Benny knocked then entered the room, followed by a serious-looking guy. The type of person who meant business, Dean assessed. That must be Henriksen, he thought. He had dark skin and was about Dean's height. He radiated confidence and strength which impressed Dean greatly. He was wearing a white shirt, quite standard, no brand, and black pants.

Meanwhile, Benny shut the door behind them and stood at a corner of the room, trying hard to look casual but Dean knew him well enough. Something was about to happen.

"Henriksen," Bobby started, "meet Dean Winchester. Dean, this is detective Victor Henriksen."

Victor shot him an unimpressed look then shook his hand. "So this is the famous Dean I've heard so much about?" he uttered. "I don't know if I should congratulate you or throw you behind bars!"

"Yeah, nice to meet you too," Dean shot back with a jerk of his head. _What the hell?_ "What's this all about?"

"With your records, you must have been damn deep in Crowley's organization. Maybe too deep?" Victor replied with a smirk. "Your track records really are impressive."

"What the hell?" Dean shot back. Was he really talking about his undercover job?

"Alright, alright," Bobby intervened. "Now, you two get to know each other. As respectable adults! Starting next Monday, you'll be partners. Questions?"

It took Dean five full seconds to proceed what Captain Singer just said, while Victor only nodded. All eyes were locked on him and he could not help but shake his head.

"Bob... Boss! He's a detective!" he started, noticing the amused smile on Benny's face. "Do you really mean..."

"Yep!" Bobby confirmed with a nod. "Like Henriksen said, your records are impressive. You impressed a lot of people, Dean. So it was decided to move you as detective instead of uniform grunt. You'll spend the next six months with Henriksen learning the job hands on. Don't disappoint!" he warned, lifting his finger and pointing in Dean's direction.

Dean knew he had a stupid grin on his face. He did not care. Him? A detective? "No! I won't!" he replied with enthusiasm. So long, traffic!

"And just for information," Bobby continued "only the four of us know about your previous assignment. No one else. You're officially transferred from Lawrence, Kansas. Your file is sealed, but mind your words. Capisce?"

That made sense. He just could not believe the news. "Yeah! Of course! Thanks boss!" he replied before facing Victor. "Howdy partner!" he shot, to which Victor turned to Bobby and made a face.

"He'll grow on you…" Bobby said while Benny chuckled. "Alright, give him a tour. And Dean, you'll have some papers to fill in. You better bring them all back on Monday. Got it?"

"Yes Sir!"

Victor exited the office, followed by Dean. Benny had apparently some other topics to discuss with their Captain.

"I'll show you your desk," Victor said "it's next to mine."

Dean really tried to contain his excitement but looking at Victor, it seemed he failed. He will have his own desk! He still could not believe it! He was sure he was going to wake up in his small apartment, hungover. He came back from his thoughts when he realized Victor had been talking and he did not listen to a single word.

"Don't get your hopes too high. It's mostly paperwork, and solving petty crimes. Sergeant Mills over there assigns cases," Victor said.

Dean looked where he pointed and saw a lady with brown hair watching them intently. They walked up to her.

"Serge, meet my new partner. Dean Winchester," Victor introduced him.

"Finally!" she said with a smile, shaking Dean's hand. "I've been wondering when that new recruit would show! Nice to meet you Winchester."

"Thanks Ma'am!" Immediately, he realized his mistake. Sergeant Mills shot him a warning look while Victor almost took a step back. "Serge…ant. Sergeant. Thank you."

With an apologetic smile, Victor pushed him away and guided him to a small room filled with microwaves and coffee machines. "Have you ever been in a precinct before?" he asked in a low voice.

"No," Dean admitted. "First time." To which Victor sighed and clapped a hand hard on his shoulder.

"You better watch it, then," he advised.

"Yeah… Sorry."

"Anyways… breakroom. Make sure you put your name on your lunch," he said, showing the fridges with a hand. "Some people are just always hungry and won't look twice."

"I hope you're not talking about me!" said a cheery voice behind them.

Dean turned and saw a blonde lady walk in with an empty coffee mug saying "I heart dogs" and a huge smile on her face.

"Haven't talked about donuts, have I?" Victor replied with a grin. "Detective Donna Hanscum. She's our newest addition to the precinct. Well, former-newest."

"Oh, the new guy!" Donna exclaimed. "Welcome!"

"Thanks. I'm Dean Winchester," he replied, making sure there would not be any language slippage.

"Hey, Victor, I have a bit of time, I can give Dean the grand tour if you'd like. Garth has been looking for you all over the place, about a report you submitted in the wrong format?"

Immediately, Victor's semi-friendly smile dropped. "Dammit! That kid is going to be the death of me!" he grumbled. "Garth is part of our local IT team. They changed… whatever and now all our reports must be submitted using…" he tried to explain before interrupting himself. "You'll see for yourself soon. It's a real joy!" He added and gave another pat on Dean's shoulder. "Welcome aboard."

Dean nodded a thanks and watched Victor leave the small room.

"Donut?" Donna suggested with a shrug.

"Isn't that a bit cliché?" Dean replied but still following her to the coffee machine with a box of donuts next to it. "I mean, come on! Cop and donuts?"

She laughed. "Oh yah! Totally! But they're good." She took one with a napkin and handed it to Dean, then got one for herself.

Both bit in the donut at the same time. He had to admit it. It was good. It was actually really good! He let out a small groan, making Donna beam. "Told'ya!" she said, sputtering donut crumbs over Dean's white shirt. They continued eating their pastries and it slowly started as a moaning concert, appreciative of the quality of the donuts.

"Donna!" came an authoritative voice from the door. "Not again?!"

They both turned and saw Sergeant Jody Mills walk in, hands on her hips and not believing her eyes. "Really, Winchester? Already with the donuts?"

"Humpf, good!" he tried to articulate but failed.

"Detective Hanscum, seriously?" she asked, looking at the smaller lady.

Donna gave an apologetic look and swallow her bite. "Sorry Jods. I mean Serge! Come Dean, let me show you the rest of the precinct!"

Without looking at Sergeant Mills, he sheepishly followed Donna back to the corridor.

"You have powdered sugar on your faces!" they heard Jody yell at them.

With an awkward laugh, they managed to clean themselves up.

"Alright! Let's go!" Donna said with such enthusiasm that Dean wondered what she would look like about something she really liked.

They met two other detectives, then two of their local IT team who were having a heated discussion about a TV show Dean had not have time to watch yet.

"He's her son!" one affirmed.

"Ash, that's just a theory," said the other.

"Garth and Ash," Donna whispered after they left the pair. "Brainiacs but sometimes I wonder if we speak the same language."

Dean could not help but chuckle. "Tell me about it," he said. "My little brother's just the same! Totally in his world and when you did not know the difference between arboreal frogs and indigenous ones, he'd look at you and make this face… you know?" he laughed. "Genius you just can't keep up with!"

She laughed with him and asked him about Sam. Of course, Dean gladly talked about Sammy. At some point, he thought he bored Donna to death, but she was all smiles and nodded at his jokes. So he kept on chatting.

Then, they moved to another building. "The uniforms," she informed him. "These guys do all the leg work. They're seriously underappreciated. Hey Ruby!" she waved to a slender girl with long brown hair who waved back with a big smile. "I suggest you get to know them. Might help you out when you're in a pinch."

He nodded, taking good notes of all her advices, and looking back at Ruby who was now discussing with another policewoman, blond and tall, wondered how the precinct managed to hire ladies who clearly belonged more to a fashion show in Paris than in a police station.

Donna gave him a hard shove with her elbow. "Come on, Dean!"

"What?!" he looked back at her, startled.

"Enough with the goofy smile."

He whipped the smile off his face and looked around. He saw the blond one shot some glances at him and he managed to stop from showing off just in time. Donna was watching him closely.

"They're… you know," he tried to say to justify his behavior.

"Oh ya. They know! And they don't give a penny about it. Come on, behave now."

They left the building and circled back to the previous part. When they reached Victor's desk, he was on the phone, interrogating a witness of a robbery, from what Dean understood.

"I guess this will be yours," Donna said, gesturing to an empty desk covered in stains of different shapes and colors.

 _Note for later: bring a disinfectant_ , Dean thought. But he could not stop a thrill from shaking his body. He launched at the desk, touched the metal with the pads of his fingers. That would be his! His own desk! As a detective! He took one more step and sat on the swivel chair. Immediately, he felt it break down under his weight.

"Wait!"

He managed to stand up just in time before the chair completely gave in. "Son of a bitch!" he shouted. Everyone around eyeballed at him like he was some kind of martian. That was just peachy. Not even his first day. He rubbed his neck and lifted his hand in apology, looking around. "Sorry! Sorry!"

In front of him, Victor had apparently finished his call and was slowly banging his forehead with the telephone receiver, his face wry. He was muttering something about getting his hopes too high, then stared at Dean, unimpressed.

"The chair is broken," Donna said with a cringe.

"I noticed…" he declared, making Donna laugh loudly. At once, he felt the atmosphere relax a bit. The other detectives and Sergeant Mills went back to work.

They put the remaining parts of the chair under the desk, then went to talk to Victor. He told Dean that he was planned to start next week. However Captain Singer would call him in case there was a problem.

"Apparently, some higher ups don't know how to click on a computer," he said with a roll of eyes.

He then handed Dean a folder with a lot of printed papers. "From Captain Singer," he explained "with the explicit reminder to bring these back, filled in and signed next Monday."

"Awesome, more paperwork…"

"And that's just the beginning."

They chatted a few more minutes, then Victor got a phone call from IT. Dean took that as his cue. He thanked Donna for her welcome and left the precinct with a warm feeling in his heart. He had wrapped his head around the fact that he'd be assigned to traffic, and now Bobby offered him his dream job! He still could not believe it. Apparently, spending five years away from his family, impersonating a gang member, had its upsides. Plus, according to Donna, Victor Henriksen was their top detective. He had the highest arrest score and case closed for two consecutive years. She admitted that he might be better at the Feds, but nobody talked about it. And better not talk about it in front of Captain Singer, she advised with a face.

Folder in hand, he walked back to the Impala that was parked the further from any other car in the parking lot, climbed in and drove back to his apartment.

His evening was just a long line of phone calls to his brother, his parents and Benny who agreed to have a beer with him the following evening.

(***)

Tuesday went by quite fast. He went shopping, bought himself a new suit which cost a bit more than he had hoped. But after looking at himself in the mirror, it was worth it! Bonus: he got the cute cashier's phone number! He also got some groceries and more beers than reasonable. He started to fill in the papers and read them carefully. He noticed that he still had some exams to pass regularly, like shooting range, procedures. But all in all, it did not seem too bad.

He gave up on the papers when Benny finally arrived, his hands full of paper bags.

"Dude, are you moving in or what?" Dean joked, letting his friend enter.

"Are you offering?"

"Pretty sure Andrea would find me and kill me."

Benny chuckled but did not answer. It did not take a detective to understand there was trouble in paradise.

Making himself home, Benny went straight to the kitchen where he emptied his bags. More beer, enough to last a month! Some chips and two Tupperware.

"You'll thank me later, brother," Benny said while putting one in the fridge. He turned and started looking for a pot.

"Benny… no! You did not…"

"Oh, yes! I have!"

"Gumbo! You made your gumbo?" Dean shouted, walking over to where Benny was busying himself.

"The one and only, brother," he confirmed "and I hope you have the right pot."

Dean cringed a little but showed his only pot. "That'll have to do."

"That'll do. That'll do."

As Benny heated the dish, Dean cleaned the little table in front of the TV, putting all papers in his bedroom, then put out the dishes and cutlery. Once hot, Benny served the gumbo with rice in the plates. Dean sat next to him and handed him a beer, taking one for himself.

They did not waste another second and enjoyed Benny's dish, full of flavors and secret spices, known thanks to his Cajun origins.

Once their plates empty, Dean let himself lay back on the couch with a satisfied sigh. "Dude, I'm telling you. I got this nice suit today? Pretty sure it won't fit tomorrow."

"Hey, I didn't force you." Benny replied, making himself comfortable too.

"Yeah well, have I ever refused your famous gumbo?"

"You are weak, brother."

"You have seen me in front of an apple pie."

"I have!" Benny replied, faking a chill. "It will haunt me forever."

They laughed and Dean made a face before sitting back against the backrest. They sat in companionable silence for a little while before Dean turned to face Benny. He had to come clean.

"I saw Lisa and Ben," he told Benny.

His friend let out a long sigh.

"That was stupid, I know!" Dean continued before Benny could say anything. Then he explained what happened and saw Benny's eyes drop a little, looking at him a bit more sadly. He hated it when he was being pitied. Hatred that came from his guts. However, he knew Benny only meant well and cared about him. So he just told his story and pushed his discomfort deeper. When he finished, Benny asked him how he was holding up. He answered honestly. That he saw Castiel who threw some truth at him, making him think about it. And now, he was better. Not totally alright, but he accepted that he had to let Lisa and Ben go.

"Well, Dean Winchester being reasonable? That's a first!"

"Shut up! Come on! I'm not that big of a nut case!"

Benny made a face. "I remember the state of one of the Hellers who threatened Lisa."

"Yeah? Well he deserved it!"

"Dean," Benny started in a gentle voice. "That guy ended up in the hospital with his throat nearly ripped off."

Dean shrugged. There were some memories he thought belonged to another man. The nightmares he kept having were just bits of movies with an actor who looked just like himself. He needed to bury that deep inside and never look at it. One day he'll face his own demons. One day. But today was not that day! "He deserved it!" Dean insisted.

"And after that you wondered why people called you 'Crowley's hound'." At that, Dean shot a warning look to Benny who totally ignored it. "Henriksen got wind of some stuff you did. He can put two and two together. You better watch that side of yours, brother."

The pleasant feeling of having his friend over with the slight buzz of the beer started to turn sour. "The psych-eval gave a go. So did Cas."

"We both know you're good at faking it. But you can't fool me. Or Novak either apparently."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Dean asked.

"Told you we had a call with him the other day. He explained that he would not give his approval before the person was fully back on track and his mind back in the regular John society."

"So?"

Benny shook his head. "So, you're not there yet, but he affirmed you would be fine and giving you a job back would actually help you settle."

"Yeah and?"

"And that guy is a huge deal, Dean. He's important and he puts a helluva lot of faith in you."

Dean shrugged, taking these words in. "I can handle myself," he said simply.

"You better thank him good is all I'm saying." Benny finished, turning to catch his beer bottle and drinking long gulps.

The evening's mood had somewhat broken down at this point. Dean could not let go of the acrid feeling in his stomach and Benny noticed. After a few minutes, Benny told him Andrea would be pissed if he didn't leave soon. Dean told him he'd clean the containers and bring everything back to them the next day. To which Benny said he was in no hurry and if he brought it to the precinct the next week, it'd be alright.

(***)

Dean waited in front of Castiel's office, with this awful feeling of déjà-vu. Well, déjà-lived would be more accurate. When Meg left the building, she stopped in front of him, one eyebrow raised and a mocking  
grin on her lips.

"Making him do overtime?" she asked. "I hope you're worth it."

Too dumbstruck to find a witty reply, he watched her leave, his mouth a little agape. "You're making him... do... overtime." _Lame_. "Dammit, Cas! Can't you finish a bit earlier?!" he shouted, knowing well enough that Castiel would not hear him.

Quite accurately, Dean had to wait for another thirty minutes before Castiel was finally leaving his office. When he saw Dean, his reaction was quite similar to his last week.

"I'm good," Dean immediately said and saw relief in Castiel's eyes. "But last week's burger was the worst I had in awhile. So, let's erase that from our memory and have a good one. What do you say?"

Castiel nodded. "Agreed."

"You have a place in mind?" Dean asked.

"Actually, I do. The best diner I know is out of town, so a bit far."

"My place too. So, you have another suggestion? Cause all the other places I know of might have some connections with the mob."

Castiel's lips slightly stretched to a little smile. "Better avoid them. There is one not far from here. However it will require at least twenty minutes' walk. But the burgers are quite decent. And their milkshakes are worth the travel."

Dean let out a chuckle. "Good enough for me. But let's drive there," he said, pointing to the Impala. "If you're okay with that."

Castiel nodded and without losing an additional second, they climbed in the vehicle. Dean drove them to the diner, which was actually an English pub, following Castiel's indications. When they entered, Dean could not refrain from smiling. The pub was exactly like the ones he saw in TV shows and movies. Low ceiling, mostly wood, and heavy with decorations from beer commercials like Guinness. The bartender welcomed them in a thick British accent which made Dean wonder if maybe he was exaggerating it. They were seated on a table in a corner of the small room and two menus left in front of them.

"Since when do Brits know how to make a burger?" he asked Castiel in a low voice.

"It's not rocket science," Castiel told him, head slightly tilted to the right, which made Dean shake his.

"Tell that to last week's diner!"

Castiel frowned a little bit. "I'm sorry you're holding such a grudge against that diner."

His voice was serious but Dean noticed the small smile on his lips.

"They didn't have pie!" he exclaimed with a pained expression, making Castiel chuckle.

They asked for a draft beer and mozzarella sticks for appetizers, which they would share. But once it was time to order, Dean was lost in the menu. Most of the dishes were clearly from Great-Britain, having shepherd's pie, fish & chips, sausages, and roast lamb cutlets with mint. However, they indicated that their burgers were their specialties. He eyed at the list, really not convinced about that.

"I'll have the apple sauce burger," he decided. "Do you have pie? For dessert?"

The waiter, who was also the bartender and most likely the owner, nodded. "Pecan. But only one slice left."

Dean, eyes wide with hope, shot a look at Castiel who smirked. "Wouldn't it be terrible if I asked that slice for myself."

"You wouldn't dare, pal!" Dean menaced, all serious, making Castiel grin even more.

"You're right, I wouldn't."

"Awesome! Thanks Cas!" He turned to the waiter and asked for the slice to be kept for him.

Castiel waited for the waiter to return to the bar, then focused on Dean. "How have you been, Dean?" he asked, joining his hands in front of him.

"Good. Great! I went to the precinct on Monday. A colleague gave me a tour, it was great! And the best part? Guess what!" He smiled but did not let Castiel take a guess. "I'm gonna be a detective! For real!"

Castiel smiled and nodded. Immediately, Dean felt his enthusiasm deflate. "You already knew that." He said, lips pursed.

"I do, actually. I had a conference call with Captain Robert Singer and Benny Lafitte. They informed me about your new role in the Force. They asked if I had any opinion against it," he said.

Dean waited for a few seconds, but Castiel seemed to be satisfied with this explanation.

"So? Did you have any?" he asked.

At this moment, the waiter brought their mozzarella sticks and beers. Castiel immediately took his glass and drank a few gulps.

"You have to excuse me, Dean," he said after putting it down "I was quite thirsty."

Dean shrugged and lifted his hands. "Dude! Come on! Spit it out!" he pushed, a little annoyed by Castiel's serene expression with that little smile plastered on his lips.

"Obviously I had none," Castiel answered, his tone a little too condescending for Dean.

"Or," he countered "they did not listen to you."

Castiel sat a bit straighter, as if his pride had been hurt by this possibility. "They have not."

"Oh! Because you're the hot shot, huh?" Dean responded, eyebrows raised, hands joined in front of him, mirroring Castiel.

"In fact, I am," Castiel said with a satisfied smile. "You would have known if you had listened to my welcome speech."

"Alright, don't get your panties in a twist," Dean said with a roll of his eyes. "So, I didn't listen. Maybe it's time to give me a quick resume?"

Castiel frowned a little, considering the question, then nodded. "Very well. I have four PHDs and—"

"HA!" Dean exclaimed with a large hand gesture toward Castiel, making some patrons shot annoyed glances at him. "I knew it! I knew you were some kind of nerd!"

"Dean—"

But Dean did not let him go on. "You ARE a doctor!"

"Indeed, I am." Castiel confirmed. "But—"

"So what's with all that not-a-doc crap?" he interrupted again.

"If you'd let me finish. You really need to work on that impatience of yours, Dean," Castiel suggested.

"Whatever, Doc!" Dean shrugged with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

Castiel sighed and did not show any sign of exasperation otherwise, which made Dean wonder what could make him lose his temper. _Better not poke it_ , he thought. Yet he knew it was exactly the kind of thing he'd do.

"Because the approach I take is not based on sociological nor medical studies. It is actually a new field and only five of us in the United States of America. The interviews are based on the past experience of the person, the wishes for the future and the adaption in the present. Of course, the medical view is important, as well as the sociological, but any psychologist can do. What we offer is a judgment of a person whose life does not meet regular studies. People like you, Dean, are quite unique. Hence, must be dealt as such. Which is why I insist on not being called a doctor."

Dean understood that Castiel simplified a lot, but was satisfied with the answer. "And you have other… clients?" he asked.

"Yes. More than I should, actually. As I said, we are only five and my colleagues do face the same problem."

"And you all deal with undercover cops. Didn't think there were that many!" he said.

"You're not. We deal with a lot of other specific situations. For example, a hostage situation. Or a severe illness remission. Employers ask us to give a statement about their employees who faced an abnormal circumstance."

"So you decide the fate of people? Just with a piece of paper?" Dean questioned. "That's a whole lot of power for just one guy."

"Other professions have the same fate, Dean. Psychologists, doctors, surgeons, firefighters, cops."

Dean inhaled deeply and sat back on the backrest. "Do the employers follow your advice?"

"Most of the time, yes. If they don't and something happens, they signed a waiver." Castiel answered with a sad smile.

"Huh…" He took his glass and drank. The beer was still cool, which was nice. Also the flavor was slightly sweet and heavier than the cheap ones he was used to. He looked at Castiel. They shared a long look, neither willing to converse.

After a few minutes, the waiter came back, his hands heavy with the dishes, which cheered Dean up a bit. His burger was pork, veal and beef, grated apple, apple sauce, cheese and bacon. He still wondered how that would taste.

"Good luck," he told Castiel when holding the sandwich with both hands.

To his surprise, it was quite good. Not the best burger, but really good and out of the ordinary. He enjoyed it to the last crumb, as did Castiel with his triple-cheese burger.

"Man, I can't even pronounce these!" Dean laughed when Castiel told their names once they finished.

"Goat, maroilles and munster," he repeated. "Though the combination of the three is not really a happy one."

"That's why you ate with your fork and piece by piece!" Dean understood. "I thought you'd become some kind of—"

"Of?" Castiel interrupted.

"Dunno. Jerk? Too good for simple burger?"

Castiel shook his head. "Never too good for burger, to Meg's despair as I told you."

"Right! Right. Meg eh?!"

Soon after, the waiter brought their dessert. The pecan pie for Dean and a scoop of vanilla ice-cream for Castiel. They talked a bit more about Castiel's work, Dean's special recipe for mac and cheese, and Sam. At some point, Dean realized that Castiel was a bit clueless to recent movies, which he explained by his amount of work. Dean also found out that the two other PHDs were linguistics, a special kind of language, and botanic, for his own amusement apparently.

"Eno… enochian?!" Dean repeated. "From country Enochia?"

Castiel rolled his eyes. "It's the language of the angels, Dean. It's very special."

"Why do you need that for? To call the last punishment upon us?"

"I doubt anyone is listening," Castiel countered.

They chatted a bit longer, but when Castiel would not hide his yawns any longer, they agreed to call it a night. They shared the bill once more and went back to the Impala, parked right in front of the pub. Dean drove them back to Castiel's office and wished him good night, then he went back home.

(***)

At 8am sharp on Monday, Dean walked into the precinct. He nodded to the people he had met the previous week, noticed some unknown ones, then walked straight to his desk. When he arrived, he saw a pen box filled with pencils, pens and paperclips. Next to it, a black phone. A CRT monitor on the desk and a desktop on the floor, which seemed so old that they must have been present during the rise and fall of the Napoleonic Empire. But he won't complain; after all, he's not a computer buff so as long as it's working, it'll be fine. There was also a new swivel chair, brand new. He immediately sat down and rolled a bit, just for testing. Comfortable! He refrained from loosening his tie and first button of his shirt. It was his first day, he could make the effort.

He noticed Captain Singer sitting at his desk and visibly swearing at his computer screen. Dean walked over there and as the door was open, he knocked once and greeted his boss.

"Don't forget to give me the papers signed!" Bobby reminded him when Dean walked back to his desk.

As Victor was not yet present, he started his computer. Soon, he realized that would take a while so he went to the break room and got himself coffee in a Styrofoam cup. He reminded himself to get a proper mug. He put way too much sugar and cream, but he reassured himself saying that it was just the first day and that he would cut the sugar for the second cup.

He didn't.

A few minutes later, he realized he was getting nowhere with the computer. Another detective, one he hadn't met before, saw his struggles and directed him to contact their IT team to set him up.

"Tessa," she greeted him with a smile.

"Dean Winchester," he replied, shaking her hand.

"Welcome aboard," she said, then left him with the phone number of their IT. "Better ask for Ash," she advised "he's a bit strange but he gets things done quicker than Garth."

After a while, Ash left his nerd-den and got him his login and password, started some of the programs he needed and explained some tricks to make sure the files he submitted to the server would not be lost on the way.

Victor came around 8:30am, followed by Jody and Donna. Everybody busied themselves before the big Monday meeting of 9am.

All the detectives of the floor, about twenty people, gathered in the meeting room. Sergeant Mills told him to stay next to him. As soon as the meeting started, she first introduced him to the squad, giving short information about his past (transferred from Lawrence, Kansas) and freshly assigned detective. A little impressed, Dean turned on his cocky smile and tried to play it cool. As he heard several warm "welcome" and "tone it down kid" shouted as a joke, he cooled down a bit. Once the presentation was over, he went to sit down next to Victor. Jody continued the meeting about some vital information for health and safety, then moved on to talk about ongoing cases.

"Devereaux is now leading the investigation on Richard Roman." She let the exclamations and whistles die before continuing. "We ask each and every one of you to check with their CI if they have anything. It's a long process so consider this a marathon, not a sprint."

Most of the detectives nodded, including Victor.

"Next, Hanscum closed her twentieth case." Again whistles and congratulations shouted all over the room. "Which means she's just short of reaching Henriksen." Some cheering. "Three more to go, Donna, and… what will it be this time?"

"Someone told me about pies," Donna answered in a loud voice and a huge smile, but before she could continue, more whistles and loud cheering covered the rest of her reply.

Dean turned to Victor. "There is a competition between you two?" he asked.

Victor, a little hunched in his seat, shot him an unimpressed look which contradicted the little smirk on his lips. "Apparently the one who closes the most cases in a month gets to bring something for the squad. Her cakes are more popular than my ratatouille and cleansing drinks."

Dean tried not to laugh. "Imagine that," he said, giving his best shot at being serious, failing terribly.

Once everyone calmed down, a detective walked up to Sergeant Mills and stood next to her. Detective Rufus Turner, as Victor told Dean, explained that they will soon organize a challenge with other precincts, so they had to watch their emails and trainings were highly encouraged.

With the meeting finally over, Sergeant Mills walked up to Victor and gave him a folder.

"New case?" he guessed.

"Robbery," Jody said. "They took only the gold, silver and jewelry."

Victor nodded and took the folder. He gave it a quick look, then handed it to Dean. "Read it while we're on our way."

First case and it's not even noon! Dean tried to be at his best behavior, professional and serious, but he knew his excitement to be on a case showed. Donna gave him a nice pat on the shoulder and wished him luck.

They took Victor's car and while driving, he explained that one of his many cases involved the same operating method. So they were most likely related and despite having so much to work with, it felt like a dead-end. No fingerprints, no stolen goods ever resurfaced, no one ever heard a noise. Worse part was that the targets were both shops and private homes. Dean could tell Victor was frustrated with the case. However his will to catch the guys was bright as day.

"I'll show you the ropes," Victor told Dean when they exited the car.

They interrogated the witness, highly unreliable, and examined the location of the robbery. Dean tried to be helpful but really, he just followed Victor's directions and listened carefully to each explanation. After a while, and without any real evidence, they drove back to the precinct were Victor had some other paperwork to fill in. He trained Dean on them.

The day ended faster than Dean thought. When he finally reach his apartment, he was exhausted and ate a microwaved dish, which was supposed to be boeuf bourguignon. Clearly it was neither beef nor bourguignon. He fell asleep shortly after with the hope to soon be able to conduct his own investigations.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean hesitated. He thought hardly on whether or not he should meet Castiel in the evening. Tuesday went by almost the same way as Monday and he was getting tired. He wanted to spend some time with the Doctor Novak-not-a-doc, but the third week in a row seemed a bit much.

"Damn, Dean!" Victor said loudly. "If you don't stop that, I'll lock you up!"

Dean sat a bit straighter and realized he had been rolling on his chair from left to right while tapping his desk with a pencil. He did not know for how long.

"Sorry. Just thinking."

"Then stop! Anyway, it's time for you to go. Remember tomorrow, we're meeting a CI at 7am. You better be here!"

"I will. Bye Vic!"

"Victor," he corrected with a sigh.

Dean left the precinct and when he climbed behind the wheel of his beloved Impala, his eyes fell on Benny's Tupperware. Which reminded him that he had not seen his friend. He decided to take the long way home and drove to his friend's house. He'd never been there before, always meeting Benny at his own place or at other locations, cafés, restaurants. But he had his address. Benny gave it to him the day he bought the house with his wife, telling him to come straight there if things got bad and he couldn't get hold of him. Of course, things went south several times but he never used that privilege. How could he? Meaning it would endanger Benny and Andrea? No freaking way!

Dean had only met Andrea once, a few years back, after their wedding. She did not seem to like him much, but then Benny explained she gave that impression to everyone. He was lying. But Dean played along. Which now gave him a bit of a headache. Was he supposed to knock? Or just leave the boxes outside?

He parked the Impala in front of the house and walked up to the porch, the Tupperware in hand. He was about to leave them on the floor when the door opened and Andrea came in his line of sight. She was frowning, then immediately relaxed when she recognized Dean but then her expression hardened a bit.

"Dean," she said, a head slightly tilted. "What brings you here?"

"Hey Andrea! Just bringing these back," he replied, showing the boxes in his hands.

"Right."

She looked at him. Actually, she was studying him before she gestured for him to come inside. "Benny will be back in a few. You can wait for him."

"I'm just dropping these off, really." He said.

However, she moved out of the way, giving him a perfect view of their home. The open kitchen on the right, with a table and chairs, then the living room with the couch and television.

"You're sure? He just called to say he was on his way. I'm sure he will be happy to see you."

When Dean noticed the blanket thrown over the backrest of the couch and the pillow that clearly belonged in a bedroom, his stomach dropped. Benny hadn't told him things were that bad.

"Nah, thanks Andrea, but I have to go. I'm meeting a friend soon."

She stood a bit straighter, one hand on her hip, a strange expression on her face. "Right."

Dean tried to smile. "So, here you go." He handed the boxes to her. "They're clean, no need to wash them."

"Thank you, Dean," she said, her own smile not reaching the eyes. She took the Tupperware and after some polite exchanges, Dean left the house.

Once in the Impala, he drove straight to Castiel's office. He needed a change of scenery and a friendly face. Of course, when he reached his destination, it was way too early for Castiel. So he had to wait in the car. Again. Really, he should have brought a book or something.

A few minutes later, his phone rang. Benny. His stomach dropped thinking about what he saw. He just hoped he misunderstood. After all, he's been there a few times with Lisa when he drank just a bit too much or he needed some space. Maybe it was the same for Benny. It did not mean Andrea kicked him out of the bedroom.

"Hey Benny! What's up buddy?" he answered, a bit more cheerful than usual.

"Hello brother. So you come to my house and is too eager to meet whoever and not wait for me to come back?" his friend said in a false-hurt voice. "So who's that friend of yours?"

"Just Cas. I gotta teach him what a real burger tastes like."

"Huh."

Dean could not stop the worry in the pit of his stomach. "Hey Benny? How are you holding up?"

"All good, brother. You know me!"

Dean refrained from sighing. Benny was just like him. They were not the kind to spill their guts every five damn minutes.

"Okay. You know where to find me when things go south, right?" he said in a more serious tone.

Benny kept silent for a few seconds. "Thanks brother. I'm good."

Dean smiled. Of course he was. "So, did Andrea send you to an errand or what?"

"Nah. Got assigned." Benny replied.

"Assigned? Like…"

"Yes."

"Huh!" Well that was news to him. "Since when?"

"Captain Singer told me about it last week. I just met the guy today. Not the same type of assignment as you, though. A bit different. Shouldn't be too hard either."

"For how long?"

"Don't know yet, a few months probably. Might have to travel here and there," he answered. Dean felt there was more to it. He let Benny take his time. "Andrea isn't too happy about it."

Of course she wasn't. "Can you take some time off?

Benny let out a groan. "Brother," he started and Dean immediately heard the exasperation in his voice. "You know I love my job. It's what keeps me going. Two weeks off once in awhile is good enough. I had almost a month off! Seriously, I just wanted back in."

"Yeah, I hear you, buddy. I hear you. Just… keep your nose clean, okay?"

Benny chuckled. "You know me!"

They hung up shortly after. Dean was a bit lost at what he could do to help his friend. Benny was always there when he needed a hand. Of course, Benny was only doing his job, but he always went the extra mile for him. And well… A certain night brought itself up in Dean's memory. He chased it away. But one thing was certain, he'd help Benny no matter what. Now that damn bear just needed to talk to him! But for now, all he could do was wait. Wait for Benny to open up. Wait for Castiel to leave his office.

A while later, Meg left the building, spotted the Impala and smirked at Dean before walking away. This meant he had to wait for at least thirty minutes for Castiel. For once, he'll try to push the not-doc out earlier. He climbed out of the car and walked up to the entrance of the building. There were several doorbells, mostly offices which would move in soon. Castiel had explained that the owner of the building was restoring all areas, trying to rent it to big companies in the hopes of bringing more value. Castiel hoped it would not come too fast, otherwise he would pay a higher rent and he could not really afford it right now.

Soon Dean found the _Dr. Novak_ , followed by many acronyms, bell. He pushed it thrice and heard the sound coming for above his head. He opened the door and climbed the stairs. Once he reached the office, he knocked. A few seconds later, Castiel opened with a deep frown. When he saw Dean, he immediately smiled.

"Hello Dean. Come in," he said while giving way for Dean to enter the office.

"Hey Cas. You got a patient in there?" Dean asked, closing the door behind him. He heard the loud huff and chuckled. "Alright, alright."

"I don't accept meetings after 6pm," Castiel informed him. "Which gives me time to review some documents and do paperwork. You cannot imagine the kind of justification some companies require," he said with an eye roll. "Let's not even talk about taxes."

Dean nodded, but it was something he avoided for the past years. Due to his special case, Benny dealt with it and since Dean Smith did not really exist, he was more or less safe.

"You still have a lot of work?" he asked when Castiel walked back to his office.

The slightly smaller man considered it for a few seconds. "If you could give me ten minutes?"

"Sure thing! And we're going for some burger next?"

"Of course," Castiel replied with a genuine smile, to which he responded with one of his own.

Castiel kept staring at him for a few seconds before taking seat behind his desk. Dean looked around and saw the two chairs. If he sat on the closest one, he'd have his back turned to Castiel, so he took the other one. The chair in which Castiel held his sessions. He glanced at Castiel who was working on his desk, head down.

True to his word, Castiel stood up exactly ten minutes after. He shuffled some papers on the desk and put some other in a folder which ended in a locker about Dean's size. Castiel locked it with a key he then put in his trouser pocket.

"Ready. Thank you for your patience," he said.

"Sheesh, Cas! Don't sound so formal." Dean said, sitting up.

"My apologies," Castiel replied with a little smile that made Dean chuckle.

"Alright! I had something in mind," Dean said, standing next to Castiel as he closed his office window and locked all doors. "It's a bit far. Not that far but a bit outside town. But I swear, they make some mean burgers! And pie!"

"That sounds good," Castiel approved.

They walked down the stairs, climbed in the Impala and twenty minutes later, stopped in front of a diner which seemed run down. Mostly made of wood, it was surrounded by gravel. Some cars and big bikes were already parked. All in all, it was the kind of place that did not inspire trust. However, Dean was dead set on bringing Castiel here. And when he looked at the man, he was just harboring a little smile. That was not the reaction Dean was expecting.

"You know that place?" Dean asked. "You've heard of the Roadhouse?"

"I might," Castiel replied, a little cryptic.

They walked the few meters to the door and Castiel pushed open. The lights were dim. It took Dean a few seconds to get accustomed, just like usual. All the furniture was made of wood and some chairs had seen better days. On the far left, a pool table with four bulky men around, possibly bikers. On the bar two other men drinking, or more likely trying to pass out and drown their sorrow in cheap booze.

A few seconds later, a young lady with long blond hair, a tray laden with four beers, came out of the kitchen. As soon as she saw them, she smiled. Before Dean could greet her, she told them to sit wherever they wanted.

Leading the way, Castiel sat at a booth, a bit further from the bar and the other customers. When she returned, she was smiling brightly.

"Hey Jo!" Dean greeted her.

"Heya Dean, it's been a while," she responded then looked straight at Castiel "but it's been even longer, Castiel! How have you been?" she asked.

"Good, thank you. Unfortunately busy and without Meg's companionship I'm afraid I cannot come as often as I would like," he replied with an amiable grin.

Dean couldn't believe his ears. "You know him?! Cas, you know Jo?! What the hell, guys?!"

"I am quite familiar to this diner. Actually, last week I was suggesting to come here, though the drive is a bit long," Castiel admitted.

"He's an old friend," Jo explained. "Helped us out a few times. Please say hi to Anna for me, will you?"

"I will."

"And when will you bring Meg back?" Jo asked. "She's witty, I like her."

Castiel chuckled then looked down, still smiling. "Witty is a very mild term. I will ask her tomorrow."

"Good!" She then turned to Dean. "Lemme guess. Burger, double bacon, double cheese, double fries, and the pie du jour? Beer?"

Mouth a little agape, Dean nodded.

"Same for me please," Castiel told her.

"Coming right up!" she said before turning heels and going back to the kitchen where they could hear her shout "Mom! Two Clogged Arteries!"

Dean leaned further on the table. Now was a good time for an explanation. "What the hell, Cas? You know the Harvelles?"

"Yes, it's a long story." He said.

"Got all night, pal!" Dean retorted, still a bit pissed.

Castiel nodded. "Very well. A few years ago, Joanna-Beth dated my little sister Anna. She got wind of some legal problems the Harvelles were facing due to Mister Harvelle's passing long ago. I reached out to a cousin who helped under the condition that I accepted to widen my field of application to the Police Force. In the end, my cousin Michael helped his client by giving my name so Captain Bobby Singer could get in touch, he then helped the Harvelles with their legal issues. However, a bit later Anna and Jo broke up, but luckily I was not involved. They still welcome me with a smile and beer which is more than I can ever ask for."

"Seriously, it all sounds like Beverly Hills 90210 to me!" Dean scoffed.

Castiel frowned a little. "Is this another TV show reference?" he asked.

"Dude, you seriously lack in pop culture! Tell you what, there's this theater not far from my place who reruns some classics. What do you say? Next time there's a good one, we watch it. Sounds good?"

Castiel nodded. "Yes, that sounds good, Dean."

"Deal!" he declared, hitting the table with the flat of his hand.

They settled in a comfortable silence. For some reason, Castiel kept gazing at him. Dean had to admit he did not try very much to divert this scrutiny as he did the same. Probably. Most likely. Somehow, he did not feel pressured to break the lull in the conversation. It was relaxing and Castiel did not seem like the kind of guy who would babble for hours, which Dean appreciated, especially after these three days where his work left him tired. Working as a mechanic undercover was different than sitting at a desk and looking at evidence and photos of robbery scenes, not even mentioning the paperwork.

Also, that gave him time to study Castiel's face. In all honesty, he did not look twice when they first met. But now, it's growing on him. He noticed the deep blue eyes a while back. The permanent five o'clock shadow. Now that he sat closer to him, he could not help but look at his lips. Pink and slightly chapped. His smile was rarely wide but when that happened, it lit the whole room. It was like Castiel was radiating happiness, which got to Dean. He always had a weak spot for nice smiles, happy smiles, even crooked smiles were good. And if he made that smile happen, he was the happiest. Worked with his parents, his baby brother, Lisa and Ben, Benny. And now Cas.

"How was your week?" Castiel finally asked. "I believe you started as a detective in training?"

Dean let out a small exhale. "Yeah," he said. Then he proceeded to explain how the three days have done by. They talked. A lot. Jo brought the beers, which they drank quite fast, and ordered new ones. They emptied them just as fast, ate their burgers while acknowledging these were the best in the whole Chicago area, then finished the beers again.

Dean was full and content. He ate his slice of pie (apple) and was almost suggesting Castiel to head back to Chicago when some commotion started between a biker and a drunkard. They started throwing fists, insults and some people around them cheered. It took Ellen Harvelle and her shotgun to make them leave. Before heading back to the kitchen, she stopped at their table to greet them and talked for a bit.

"Give my regards to Bobby," she told Castiel.

"Of fucking course she knows Bobby!" Dean swore when she was out of hearing range. "Is there anyone here who doesn't know you or Bobby or Santa?"

Castiel chuckled. "It's a small town," he said.

"It's freaking huge!" he insisted, making Castiel's smile widen. "Come on! Let's head back to the village."

They paid and left a generous tip for Jo. Once they were outside, a refreshing and welcome breeze cleared his head. He felt good, as usual after their little burger sessions with Castiel. He noticed the guys from before continuing their brawl a few meters from them. The drunkard could not even stand on his feet and kept on stumbling in front of him. The biker however stood on his own two feet, steady, his comrades cheering for him.

Dean stood still for a few seconds. He had seen too many of these to know it would end badly, most likely for the drunkard who was apparently alone. He might end up badly injured, just 'for good measures' if he kept on insulting the biker.

Right on cue, the biker held his right hand behind his back and pulled a butterfly knife.

"Son of bitch," Dean gritted. "Stay here," he ordered Castiel then hurried to the group.

There were the two guys fighting and three others watching and cheering. All of them bulky and dangerous looking. But Dean had faced worse. He walked up to the biker and before he could show the weapon, he held his wrist in a strong lock.

"Dude, come on, the guy is wasted," he said in a low voice "you don't need that!"

Maybe this guy could be reasonable. But when he tried to free himself and started to insult Dean, he knew it was a lost case. He distanced himself, just to be on the safe side and sure enough, the biker charged him with the knife in clear sight. That was too easy. Dean managed to disarm him and hit him hard right in the stomach. The biker fell, desperate for air. With a kick, he jerked the butterfly knife out of reach. Then a second guy jumped him. He hadn't seen him and did not escape a hard hit on the jaw.

"Dean!" he heard Castiel shout.

It took Dean a few seconds to get back on his feet. Thankfully, all the bikers were drunk and quite slow. Dean threw a mean uppercut on the second one and finished the third with a kick in the knee and a hard landing between the shoulder blades. The fourth seemed to realize the situation and just held his hands in the air in surrender.

"I don't want no trouble," he said.

Dean nodded. He then walked up to the drunkard who was crawling on the gravel and lift him up with a death grip on his collar. He almost literally threw him in the diner. When Ellen rushed to see what was going on, Dean explained in short words what had happened. She nodded and asked Dean to bring the guy in their special room. In the back of the Roadhouse was a room with one single bed screwed to the ground. No exit except one door that closed from the outside. Reinforced steel of course. Dean never asked why they had such a cell but it came handy from time to time.

"Thanks Dean," she said once the door locked. "Roger is having it rough. Lost his job, his little girl refuses to talk to him. He's a poor sod."

"Yeah? Tell him he almost got killed, maybe that'll set him straight!" Dean retorted but when he noticed Ellen's expression, he realized that many that was what the guy tried to do. Lost cause.

He left the Roadhouse and walked back to Castiel who was waiting for him next to the Impala. Apparently the other guys left. Good.

"Sorry Cas," Dean said. "I'm a cop now, can't let a murder happen in front of me!" he joked.

Castiel tilted his head, not smiling the least. "How are you Dean? I saw that man hit you hard."

"That? Nah, it was a baby kick, don't worry about it!" he lifted his hand and touched his jaw. He refrained a wince. Okay, maybe it wasn't that light and it surely would leave a bruise. But really, he had seen worse.

"Dean, let me take you to a hospital," Castiel said in a determined tone, making Dean laugh.

"You're not serious! That's nothing! Come on! The sooner we're back home, the sooner I can put ice on it and the less suspicious I'll look tomorrow."

He slapped his hand on Castiel's shoulder and pushed him toward the passenger door. Castiel looked utterly unconvinced but did not add another word. The drive back to his office was accompanied by AC/DC, which helped Dean ride his adrenaline. Before getting off the Impala, Castiel suggested the hospital once more. Dean refused. And when Castiel wished him good night and told him "see you next week", it made Dean's day.

(***)

The next day was a catastrophe. Not only did Dean sleep less than three hours, having come back from the Roadhouse really late at night and the adrenaline prevent him from falling asleep, but when Victor looked at his jaw with squinting eyes, he knew he would not hear the end of it.

But that was not all. They drove up to the pier to meet Victor's informant, only to realize Dean could not leave the car as he had dealt with the guy when he was undercover. And clearly it was too soon to show his face around.

"Dammit!" Victor swore. "I told the captain that it was risky to put you out there already. Of course you'd get recognized! Couldn't you have moved to New-York or Anchorage?"

"Come on, we both knew it'd happen eventually. Just not that soon." He reasoned. "Anyway, if he doesn't give you anything, try to ask him about Balthazar."

"Balthazar who?"

"Some smuggler," Dean explained. "He was in Balthazar's bad books."

Victor left the car, walked up to his CI. When he came back, he had a satisfied look on his face and his informant was literally running away.

"You got any other tips like this?" Victor asked when he sat back behind the wheel. "He literally flipped out when I mentioned Balthazar. He gave a name. Bela Talbot. Heard it before?"

Dean shook his head. "Never."

"Let's start digging then."

The frustration Dean felt after a whole day of research without result was only equal to his annoyance when Sam canceled the big Christmas family reunion they had planned. Apparently spending a week in a chalet in the French Alps with his boyfriend topped everything.

He went home tired, pissed, and disappointed. He emptied two beers before feeling a bit better. He then looked up the theater for upcoming movies and spotted a rerun of "Back to the Future" for the next Thursday. That was perfect! Classic! Funny! And the time continuum would most likely appeal to a nerdy little dude like Cas.

However, for good measures, he decided to call his parents. When they'd learn Sam bailed out on them, he was pretty sure Sam would get a call straight away. It was a petty revenge, but hey! Who said Dean was above that?

He dialed and waited until he heard his mother's voice.

"Dean!" she sounded pleased. "How are you? How was your first day?"

"All good Mom, all good. I'm already working on a string of robberies and learning the job."

"Glad to hear."

"Thanks Mom. So, you remember our plans for Christmas this year? The big family gathering and all?"

"Yes…" she replied, a voice a little unsure. That tipped Dean off. After all, when they talked about it, everybody was pretty ecstatic.

"Yeah well," he continued, pushing down his feeling of unease "Sam decided to go to France with his lover boy!"

"Oh. Okay." She remained silent for a moment. "That's a pity."

That was definitively weird. "Mom?" Dean asked.

"I'm sorry baby, but Missouri, you remember Missouri? She invited us in Florida for the end of the year. Her family owns a huge mansion and invited her over. And since the kids left abroad, there are more rooms so she invited your father and I."

Dean caught a long sigh just in time. Well, that explained that.

"It's just for a few days," Mary continued. "We can still celebrate Christmas when we're back? Around January 5th or so," she said, trying to be helpful.

"Nah, that's cool Mom. You enjoy your time off with Dad," he assured her.

"What about you?"

"I'll be fine. Besides, a friend invited me over so I just have to call him back and say I'll be there."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, of course! Don't worry Mom. It's great you spend some holiday time with Dad."

After a few more reassuring words, he hung up. Christmas was still a bit ahead, so he had time to find a friend who would invite him. He'll figure it out.

In a mood a bit more sour, he decided to call it a day. He ate a package of dried noodles, which were terrible but not the worst he's had. Then went to bed.

The very next day, Dean realized he had no way of contacting Castiel to suggest him "Back to the Future". Which led to the most awkward phone conversation he ever had with anyone. He called his office and, of fucking course, Meg picked up. When she realized who was on the line, she just kept on messing with him, asking why he needed Castiel's mobile number, if he was asking him out of a date. Of course not! That wasn't a date! He was just doing a favor since Castiel was so clueless. Meg didn't seem convinced, though she agreed Castiel needed some help in that domain. It took a lot of effort for Dean to convince her he just needed the number to plan for the movie night. He even asked to talk to Cas directly but apparently he was out for the moment. She finally caved in and gave him his number, and specified that she knew where he lived.

(***)

Dean had spent the whole week waiting for his moment of peace every Wednesday. He had thought about the next place they would go to, and was just eager to let some steam off. What he was seeing was definitively not what he had hoped for. The big ass windows, the fancy decoration and white clothed tables, the elderly patrons with Vuitton or Chanel or whatever crap bags. No, really. This was not at all where he wanted to be right now. When they stopped in front of the restaurant, he knew he would hate it. And now, he was just certain. When a penguin-type waiter came to take their order, he just followed Castiel's, not having took one glance at it. He did not even want to see the price, if there even was one! Well… there went his beer money for the week.

"Dean, we can leave if you don't feel comfortable," Castiel repeated for the tenth time.

He was definitely not comfortable. "Nah, I'm good. No worries Cas."

He felt underdressed, out of place, and like a grunt at a fancy ball. Despite none of the waiting staff or the other patrons giving him the dirty look, he knew he did not belong here. It was too clean, too classy, too posh. Lisa and Castiel, yeah, they were supposed to dine here. Not him. It was way too good for him.

"You radiate discomfort, Dean," Castiel insisted. "I'm sorry I brought you here. I really thought the steaks were worth it."

"Seriously Cas, I'm good. Besides, I trust your judgment. You have like thirty PhDs. I'm pretty sure you have a Doctorate in Steak and Burgers certificate somewhere!" he joked. When Castiel smiled, he felt a little better. He wanted so much to be somewhere else! But being with Castiel topped that. Besides, Castiel dropped his suit and was left with only his white shirt and tie and that was a really nice sight. So he would be fine at some point.

"How was your week?" Castiel asked.

"Frustrating," Dean sighed, a little stiff on his chair, trying to not be clumsy by playing with his fork or detailing Castiel, whose shirt was really nicely cut and revealed some nicely shaped arm and shoulder muscles. "We're looking into a robber but just cannot find anything. We have a name that comes back here and there, but nothing. No picture, no record."

"It's an alias?" Castiel suggested.

"Most likely. And no real proof of existence as it's just hearsay. So… yeah. Frustrating." Dean explained. "And there are some tensions between the two eldest detectives and Bobby… Captain Singer is playing judge and referee. Apparently it has been going on for years."

"As long as they don't hinder any investigation," Castiel said.

"No, they don't. It's just a bit irritating to hear them bicker all the damn time."

Castiel nodded. "I can imagine. My family, with all the cousins and distant relatives, is huge. We don't meet often but when we do, it's endless bickering. I try to avoid them as much as possible."

"Yeah, you told me about your family. Anna, right? And your cousin… Michael was it?" Dean tried to remember, making Castiel smile.

"Yes, that's right. Though Michael is more of a distant relative than a real cousin. It's the successful side of the family, they don't like to mingle with my side," Castiel said.

"That's fucked up. How can they be more successful than you with your buttload of PhDs?"

Castiel chuckled. "It's only four." he reminded Dean. "And, they have a certain view on how things should be done. Imagine a pyramid? Michael and his brothers are on top. Anna and I are almost at the bottom." he shrugged. "Which is something I actually consider as a compliment."

"That sucks, man."

"No, I'm fine with it. Anna even more than me as she sees them as a waste of space."

"She seems fierce!" Dean joked.

"Understatement of the year!" Castiel said with an eye roll. "Anyways, how are things with Victor?"

"Good! Very good actually! He really helps a lot and gives great advice. But I feel like he's making me do all the reports now. He hates those!" he laughed. "Oh yeah, today he said he's glad I joined this precinct cause apparently he has his eyes on this police officer, and she's never been that much in the detective space before."

Castiel frowned a little.

"He said it's cause of my good looks!" Dean said with a smirk, leaning on his chair and nodding. When Castiel glanced at him, unimpressed, he stopped showing off. "Yeah well, anyway…" he cleared his throat and regained a more reasonable posture. "He's waiting for the right moment to ask her out. She's like a model. Tall, blond, long hair. Still wondering why she became a police officer." he shrugged. "What was her name again? Oh yeah. Lilith or something. Strange."

"You have been working with her?" Castiel asked, all smiles gone.

"Nope. Never talked to her either."

"Oh."

Did Castiel seem relieved? Dean swore he saw his shoulders drop slightly.

"I don't even know why she's around. Maybe some reports and stuff. There's this other one who comes over often. Ruby? But she's friend with a detective so they usually go have lunch together when Jody is too busy."

Dean talked a bit more about his colleagues, told Castiel who was friend with whom, explained how he was trying to get Victor to let him drive an investigation. After a while, the waiter came back with their dish. Dean discovered that he had ordered a T-bone steak with vegetables and a glass of red wine. He looked at it and frowned.

"Do you have beer?" he asked before the waiter left.

"I'm sorry, Sir. But we don't."

Dean tried to hide his disappointment. He thanked the waiter who went back to the kitchen.

"This will be a lesson learned," Castiel said, looking straight at Dean with a little smile. "No more restaurants, only diners."

"Cas, come on..." Dean started.

"To be honest, I don't really like these kind of places. I always feel like I don't belong." Castiel interrupted him. "But I make an exception here. The steak is the best I've tasted."

"Cas, you do belong here. With the education, diplomas. You even put on a nice shirt for here!"

Castiel frowned and looked down at his clothes.

"I didn't…" he looked up and stopped talking. His eyes slowly fell on his plate. He kept silent, making Dean wonder what had just happened. Was Castiel embarrassed for some reason? Disappointed? He was not very good at reading his expression, but surely that was nothing positive.

"Hey, Cas, it's a compliment." Dean tried to explain. "It's great, actually! My brother and you, you managed to do something great! You can afford nice things! Hell, you deserve nice things!" Seeing as his words had little to no effect on Castiel's low gaze, he tried his usual technique: self-deprecation. Usually, that made people laugh. "You know, I'm stuck with cheap beer and burgers, so you can enjoy finer things in life!" he said with a smirk. "And I'm pretty sure you can taste the difference in wine!" he continued. "The only thing I can tell you is that it's red!" he joked. "Heh, pretty fly right?!"

Castiel looked up to him but with a sad smile. "You shouldn't speak of yourself like this. You are worth every bit of happiness and finer things in life as everybody else. Perhaps more so."

Dean shook his head. His plan didn't pan out. "You know my track record," he said. "I'm not a exactly role model."

"That's not true," Castiel replied softly, still looking at Dean.

Dean kept his gaze on Castiel, then scoffed. "Yeah," he shrugged. "Come on, let's eat before the meat gets cold."

He took knife and fork, and pushed this conversation far away from his mind. He cut a little piece and noticed immediately how easy it was. Then he put it in his mouth and began to chew. "Sunovabitch!" he explained before he could catch himself, and shot his eyes up to Castiel who had not moved an inch, gaze fixed on Dean, and now a huge smile on his face.

"Good?"

"Sunovabitch!" Dean repeated. "It's… no, it's not good. It's fan-freaking-tastic!"

The meat was so tender it almost melted on his tongue. The flavors, enhanced by the wine reduction Dean was wary about, were nothing like he ever tried before. Of course he had T-bones before, but this one tasted so good, he just could not believe it.

He immediately took another piece, much bigger, giving no thoughts about the etiquette. It was just as good. How could meat be so tender with such flavor? He swallowed then tried the vegetables. He really was not a big fan of beans and carrots, but the sauce was divine and it definitely was not some bland greenery that he used to eat. It was just good. No. Delicious!

"Okay Cas," he tried to say with his mouth full. "You got me. Is good!"

Meanwhile, Castiel started eating his own plate and seemed rather satisfied, if not a little smug. "It's the only exception I make," he explained. "I'm more of a burger-type and simple flavors. But this steak here… it's worth it."

Dean nodded and felt a little bit better. "I can get used to this. Really should ask the recipe to the chef!"

"I'd like to see you try," Castiel replied with a smile.

"I can be very persuasive!" Dean said, before realizing he implied torture and chastising himself for his big mouth.

"Not that persuasive, please," Castiel countered, his head slightly tilted, making a false-scolding face.

Dean laughed at it, all tension gone. "Hey, it's worth it! How did you even come up with this place?"

"Meg," Castiel replied after swallowing a piece of broccoli. "She always finds the strangest and best places."

 _Of fucking course_ , Dean thought. "Meg, eh! Remind me to thank her." he said. Castiel only nodded and kept on eating.

They settled for a fondant au chocolat as there was no pie. Castiel talked a bit about his studies, why he loved dead languages, especially enochian. Then he explained that his little sister Anna was settling down in New York as interior designer and got a big contract from a wealthy but exigent client. Dean talked about Sam, complained again about the canceled Christmas plans, to which Castiel replied that he would not be alone and that he was sure someone would invite him.

As they drove back, Castiel tried to ask something to Dean but did not seem to formulate correctly.

"Come on, dude! Spit it out!" Dean encouraged him.

Castiel sighed. "As you know, I have to start early in the morning and usually finish work late at night."

"Yeah, you told me." Dean was not really sure where this was going.

"And I'm over thirty," Castiel continued.

"Okay?"

Castiel took a deep breath. "What I'm trying to say is… I really enjoy our dining experience every Wednesday. However I have difficulties to focus the next day and spend the morning moping." he used his fingers to quote the last word. "Meg is threatening to highjack our Wednesdays if I'm not in a better mood on Thursdays," he sighed. "According to her, working with Lucifer would be more enjoyable."

"So, what you're trying to say is…" Dean was glad he had to focus on the road.

"Is it possible for you to come earlier? Maybe between seven or eight? That way I could get back home before midnight?" Castiel pleaded. "I really am sorry to ask this, but I'm really not a morning person and need at least six hours sleep."

Dean was so happy Castiel didn't ask to cancel their Wednesdays that he barked a laugh. "Yeah, sure Cas!" he said once he calmed down. "Didn't know you felt like an old man already!"

"Dean, that's not funny! Do you even know how scary Meg can be?" he interjected. "Plus, I have to admit, it takes me longer to finish my work when I'm tired," he sighed again. "You will see when you are my age."

"Yeah well, next year I'll be in my thirties. I'll show you, grandpa, what thirty years old can do!" Dean joked.

As usual, Dean drove back to Castiel's office and they agreed to meet the next day in front of the theater.

"At eight sharp!" Dean reminded Castiel. "They won't wait for us!"

"I will be there," Castiel assured.

(***)

"Come on, Vic, I'm late already! Can't I do this tomorrow?" Dean begged.

"Dean, you promised to get these done today," Victor retorted, "you can't just agree to do it and then refuse!"

"Hey, not my fault! It's you who wanted to check that dead lead today instead of yesterday."

Victor shot him an unimpressed look.

"And guess who was right about it?" Dean asked, knowing very well that it would annoy Victor just a little more.

"Yeah, it was a lucky guess!" Victor countered.

"Admit it, I just got a better instinct than you."

Victor rolled his eyes. "Alright, get out of my sight! Go to your date or whatever!" he said with a dismissive gesture. "But tomorrow, you call Interpol!"

"Deal!" Dean shouted and did not waste time explaining it was not a date. "See ya!" he stood up, caught his jacket and ran outside the precinct.

Luckily, he reached the theater at ten past eight. He saw Castiel waiting for him, hands in his trenchcoat, standing a little awkwardly next to the queue to the ticket counter. Dean parked the car around the corner and ran to Castiel.

"Sorry Cas, had a big day today." he apologized.

"No worries, Dean. I'm glad you're here now." he said earnestly, making Dean smile a little.

"Right… let's go then!" Dean encouraged him and started walking to the entrance.

"Dean, the tickets!"

"Got them already," Dean said. "When you agreed, I got them the next day. Didn't want to miss it. It's a great movie!"

"I've heard of it," Castiel said. "Meg kept quoting the movie but it did not make sense. She likes to make fun of my lack of pop culture knowledge." he explained.

 _Meg. Right. Again._ Dean forced a smile. "Not very nice of her."

"You actually do the same," Castiel retorted. "I don't mind, really."

They walked to the entrance and Dean caught both tickets from his wallet and gave to the employee who ripped them and gave them back.

"How much do I owe you?" Castiel asked.

"Nah, nothing man. Just consider this a nudge for you to watch more movies."

Castiel smiled. "Thank you Dean."

They found two seats almost in the middle and Dean explained the movie was really a big cultural reference. "A lot of people grew up watching this on TV. It's great to experience it on a big screen." Castiel nodded, carefully listening to Dean.

Soon after, the movie started. Whenever they were about to reach key parts of the movie, Dean couldn't help but glance at Castiel to see his reaction. When Biff entered the diner and shouted "Hey McFly!", Castiel's eyebrows shot to his hairline. It was perfect!

Castiel admitted he really enjoyed the movie and understood why it was a classic. "There are so many others you have to see, Cas!" Dean said, enthusiastic while they walked back to his car. "The next two, you must see, but there are others. All the old Clint Eastwood ones. The Alien cause Ripley seriously kicks ass. And Mad Max!"

"It's a lot, Dean," Castiel laughed. "It will take a while."

"Hey, you got all the time in the world! This theater screens oldies every Thursday. What do you say? Can you keep up?" Dean dared him.

"It's not a challenge I should refuse," he answered with a serious face, making Dean laugh.

"Deal!"

They climbed in the Impala and discussed the movie some more. Dean drove Castiel back and parted with a "See you next Wednesday."

When he got back home, he was seriously starving. He heated a one dollar canned soup then went to bed. He really should take a better look at his finances. The movie plus dinner every week kept digging in his little salary. But all these extras made him happy, so there was no reason why he shouldn't keep on meeting Castiel. Also, he liked the guy: awkward but so intelligent and nice. Plus, his gravelly and calming voice really got a nice tone to Dean's ears. Which is why he always tried to make him talk about this studies and family.

As Dean climbed to bed, he was seriously looking forward next week. Apparently the theater would screen Back to the Future II. As for dinner on Wednesday, Dean wanted to invite Castiel over, make him one of his famous burgers, but he was not sure if he should. They seemed to be on friend level, but would Castiel welcome his invite?

"Come on, Winchester, nut up!" he growled while showing the duvet over his head. "Worst case scenario, he refuses and you go back to the Roadhouse."

He gave a long thought. "Worst case scenario, Meg thinks you're trying to steal her boyfriend and she kills you in a dark alley with a spoon," he sighed. "Dammit!"

That night he turned every ten minutes, not finding sleep. Castiel dating Meg shouldn't be that upsetting. They were just friends. Right? Right. Right…

(***)

"Seriously Dean, you gotta tone it down," Victor whispered as soon as Lilith walked past them.

"I swear buddy, I'm not doing anything," Dean replied in a low voice. "I don't even know why she's here. Again! Maybe it's to see you?"

"Nah, she's always side eyeing you," he retorted. "Don't you notice?"

"Nope."

Victor shook his head. "Who's got you around their finger that you don't even see a hot girl watching you?"

Dean shot a look at Victor. "The hell you're talking about?"

Victor laughed and leaned back on his chair. "Come on! Every Wednesday you rush out like there's a fire in the house! I'm guessing you have some plans every time."

Dean remained speechless, which was something.

"Aha, that's what I thought!" Victor beamed. "Who's the lady that is willing to deal with your sorry ass? Do I know her? Someone from the uniforms?" he asked.

"No, really! There's no one!" Dean answered back.

"Dude, come on! Every Thursday, you yawn for hours."

"Seriously, Vic. We're just friends!" Dean denied, trying very hard not to think about dating Castiel. Not only was the guy involved with a spawn from hell, plus he was way out of Dean's league.

Victor looked unimpressed but did not press further. They had more urgent matter at hands. One of Victor's CI told them about Bela Talbot's British accent. Which led Dean to contact Interpol and received a long list of females with British background and international arrest warrant. It was a needle in a haystack but worth digging. Now they had a list of names they had to cross-check with all the information they got from the robberies and CIs.

However, they could not work long as Captain Singer called them in his office soon after. As soon as Dean saw Bobby's face, he knew something bad happened.

"What is it?" he asked after Bobby gestured for them to close the door.

"One of our informants was killed," Bobby announced. "Martin Creaser, shot between the eyes and decapitated for good measure."

Dean's heart missed a beat. No, he must have misheard Captain Singer. He knew Martin. He helped him from time to time, and that guy was there whenever Dean was in a squeeze spot. Martin didn't know he was an undercover cop but he knew he was not one of Crowley's. He felt a cold sweat run down his spine.

"Who?" Victor asked.

Bobby shot a look to Dean and realized how shell-shocked he still was. "He was an informant in Crowley's organization."

That was Martin. Dean kept silent, head down. What the hell happened?

"He was a petty criminal, got arrested for smuggling, shoplifting. But he had his entries. We made a deal. If he could get us some names and give us a head-start on some of Crowley's actions, his case would be closed so he could get better chances at claiming custody of his daughter."

Victor nodded. "And you're sure it was linked to Crowley's case?" he asked.

"Alastair," Dean croaked once he managed to snap out of it. "Decapitation was his signature move. Was he tortured?"

Bobby hesitated, then nodded.

"Isn't Alastair behind bars?" Victor wondered.

"He had many followers," Dean explained. "Which means one of them is loose."

"Which means your cover might be blown," Bobby continued. "As of today, you're assigned to your house. I'll call you when we find the mole."

That single sentence brought Dean totally back from his mourning pit. He felt anger rush through his stomach, up to his heart. "What?!" Dean shouted. "You've got to be kidding me! You think I'm gonna sit this one out?"

"That's exactly what you'll do, Dean. And that's an order!"

"Order my ass, Bobby! Martin's been killed and you want me to play sitting duck?"

"Dean," Bobby warned, followed by Victor whose eyes just grew wider.

"No fucking way, Bobby. Martin was a friend and he helped us to take down many!" Dean shouted.

"I know and we will find who did this," Bobby tried to reason. "But I don't want to involve you."

Dean snorted. "That's a bit too late for that. Also, what gives that my cover's been blown?"

"Martin's been killed! Alastair-style!" Bobby countered, voice raised at Dean's level.

"Yeah? And! Was he under your protection? Was Benny his handler?"

"No but—" he tried to say before Dean interrupted him.

"Look, I promise I'll be careful. But you gotta let me continue doing my job. You can't just pull me out every time there's a storm."

"He's got a point, Chief," Victor intervened. "Plus he should review Martin's cases he worked on. Might recognize a name or two."

Bobby gave them a long hard look. "Fine. But no more field work for you!" he decided, finger pointed at Dean.

"But—"

"No! Either that or home sitting! Do you understand me?" he commanded with a warning look.

Dean gulped down his remark and nodded. "Yes Sir."

Bobby looked at Victor. "If he doesn't follow this direct order," he insisted on the last words "you have my permission to cuff him!"

"Got it, Boss!" Victor replied with a way too big smile for Dean's liking.

"And that's Captain Singer for you!" Bobby shouted when they left his office.

Dean cringed. He did not like this at all. Martin was a friend and to his knowledge all of Alastair's followers have been arrested or killed during the assault. It did not look good. As soon as he sat on his desk, he called Ash and asked him to find all of Martin's files.

"Dude, they're classified. You need special agreement from higher ups to get it."

"Captain Singer is enough?"

There was a long silence at the end of the line. "Come on buddy, it's important. The guy was killed and I'm trying to find who did it."

Ash grunted. "If you get caught with it, that's on you!" he warned.

"Thanks Ash, you're the best!"

"It's Doctor Bad-Ass from now on!" he said before hanging up.

Less than ten minutes later, an intern showed up with heavy folders in hand.

"From Doctor Bad-Ass," he informed, handing the files over.

"Thanks kid."

"Kevin. Kevin Tran."

Dean looked up and saw a young Asian man, with the face of someone trying to prove something to the world. He knew that look. "Thanks Kevin," he repeated.

Once the kid left, he opened the file of a certain 'Scott Mulder', which made Dean smile as it was a private joke between Martin and him, and started going through every report and information and communication. This would take a while as he still had the Bela Talbot case to work on. But he was sure he would be up to the task. After all, it was his job now.


	7. Chapter 7

Somewhere during Sunday, between two reports, Dean managed to send a text to Castiel and ask if he'd be willing to try one of Dean's signature burgers. Castiel replied within the minute with an enthusiastic "Yes!" followed by a "Is your home easily reached by public transport?".

Dean gave him his address and Castiel said he would be there before eight, which left Dean plenty of time to prepare everything.

With little to no lead to find the mole who killed Martin, his mood was at its lowest. The only highlight in his week was an email he received from the Police Forces in the United Kingdom. A child, named Abby Talbot, disappeared about ten years ago, leaving absolutely no trace whatsoever. Her parents died in a suspicious accident and left her with all their fortune when she was only fourteen. It was worth taking a closer look at.

Meanwhile, Victor got different cases assigned as Bela seemed to be taking a break. He arrested a car thief and two suspected murderers. Dean wanted to go back on the field but Bobby did not budge.

When Wednesday came, Dean had already bought the best meat, lettuce, cheese and bacon he could find in the nearby supermarket. On his way back home, he stopped to buy the freshest buns and some additional toppings that Castiel might like.

When his doorbell rang, he just needed to toss the meat in the pan and fry the bacon. All the rest was ready, which made him quite proud, as the last time he cooked like this was with Ben and Lisa. The memory of these good times spent with them left him with a warm heart and not that empty feeling from almost two month ago.

He opened the door and let Castiel in.

"Hello Dean," he greeted Dean with a smile. "As I understood you liked beer…" he did not finish his sentence but showed a plastic bag that seemed heavy.

"Wow, nice Cas! We'll put them in the fridge."

He took the bag and started to pick them up one by one.

"I was not sure which type were your favorite, so I took a sample of each. They're from local or micro-breweries," he explained.

He really should not be surprised about this, but he still was. "Thanks Cas. Which one do you want to start with?"

Castiel pointed to one and Dean took another that looked awesome, with a great white shark painted on it. He placed them in the freezer and the others in the fridge. Then, he gave Castiel the grand tour of his apartment, which was done fairly quickly.

"It's very cozy." Castiel commented with an appreciative nod.

"It's small but it's something." Dean said. "I can't afford something bigger now. But in a few years maybe."

Castiel looked around and nodded. Dean thought that he would get a sad look when Castiel noticed the cardboard box for the TV, the old couch or the rundown furniture. But instead, he seemed to appreciate it to the point where he started to make himself at home, removing his trench coat, jacket and placing them neatly folded on the couch armrest. For some reason, Dean liked that. He was really pleased Castiel did not look as if he wanted to leave at the soonest.

Immediately, Dean got them a cold beer, one of his own, while the ones in the freezer got to the right temperature, then left Castiel in front of the TV as he left to start on the meat.

He started cooking and heard Castiel browse the limited channels he had. He threw the meat in a pan and the bacon in another then put out all the preparation for the filling. Ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise, sliced avocado, fresh lettuce, sliced tomato, sliced onion, barbecue sauce, cheese, and a bag of potato chips as he had no oven. He brought them all and placed them over the little table, leaving enough space for the plates.

After a while he took the bacon out and grilled the buns in the same pan, laughing slightly at Sam's face if he had seen this, that health freak!, and reduced the heat. A few minutes after, he placed the meat on one side on the bun and brought both plates in front of the TV. Castiel was smiling fondly and Dean wondered what was so interesting in a video taken from space, showing earth. Weird little nerd.

As soon as Dean sat down, Castiel shut down the TV and looked in front of him. "These look delicious," he commented, still smiling.

They started the preparation of the burgers and Dean was pleased to see Castiel place a lot of cheese and bacon, and a little lettuce and tomato. Dean did almost the same but added some slices of avocado and onion.

He placed the other half of the bun on top and started to chuckle. "This looks like a Scooby sandwich," he realized.

Castiel smiled politely, probably not understanding the reference. "To be fair, mine looks almost the same," he noted.

Without further delay, they took their first bites. Dean was satisfied with the result. The meat was well done but not dry. It really was worth buying more expensive meat to have this taste. Next to him, he heard Castiel moan. He straight out moaned! Dean turned his head and saw Castiel, eyes closed, mouth full so full his cheek were literally spherical, chewing his burger. This sight was entrancing and Dean couldn't stop watching, mouth a little open.

"These," Castiel started after swallowing, "these make me very happy." He nodded, and took another bite. Soon after, another moan followed, which was too much for Dean whose imagination immediately associated that noise to something more intimate and he really did not want to go down that road.

He stood up and went back to the kitchen to cool himself down. Castiel was so captivated by his food he did not realize Dean was gone from the couch. It took a few seconds to Dean to get himself in check. He got the beers out of the freezer and brought them over. Castiel nodded again when he felt Dean sit down next to him.

"These are delicious, Dean," he said. "The best, really."

Dean let out a laugh. "Better than the Roadhouse?" he asked.

Castiel rolled his eyes. "Yes, but please don't tell Ellen. Or Jo!"

"Scout's honor!"

Dean detailed how he cooked the meat and bacon. Then Castiel explained that the best he could do was to throw vegetables in a pan and wait for them to be edible.

"They're not very good," he admitted.

"Do you put at least garlic or olive oil?" Dean asked.

"No, just salt and pepper really."

"Try it next time," Dean advised.

Castiel approved. "I can make decent spaghetti, though. If you don't mind it being either sticky or over-cooked. But once, I managed to make it good!" he insisted with a smile.

They chatted long after they finished their burgers. Then Dean realized he totally forgot to get dessert. He suggested to go down to the 24/7 get something and Castiel insisted to come with him. They settled for vanilla ice cream and some cookies. Dean paid, despite Castiel's protests and they enjoyed their improvised dessert in front of the TV.

"Are people that clumsy?" Castiel asked, fascinated by the infomercial channel.

Dean let out a loud laugh. "Come on, you can't be serious!" he chuckled. When Castiel turned his interrogating look at his, he sighed. "Oh shit, Cas, seriously?"

"My apologies," Castiel said. "I think my upbringing sometimes obstructs my social skills and pop culture knowledge," he sighed.

"You didn't watch TV when you were a kid?"

"No. My mother preferred for us to learn our lessons or at best play outside with some of our cousins," he explained.

Dean jumped on the occasion to talk about Castiel's childhood. Apparently, his mother was quite strict. He was homeschooled until his eighteenth birthday when he finally left for university, despite his mother's objections. He didn't talk about his father, so Dean let the subject drop. Now he understood better why Castiel was a little awkward. Being mostly recluse and clearly introvert really must have been hard for him. However Castiel did not complain or mention his difficulties.

When there was a lull in the conversation, Dean noticed Castiel kept on gazing at him.

"What? I have something on my face?" he asked, wiping his mouth again.

"No, it's just nice to see you relaxed," Castiel admitted. "Really nice."

Dean held a hand as he did not really understand what that meant. "I'm always relaxed!" he assured while shaking his head.

"No, you're not," Castiel insisted softly, his brows frowning a little.

"I'm always chill!" Dean repeated.

"That's not what I meant," Castiel corrected. "After a while, you notice the same behavior in certain types of people," he said and kept his gaze on Dean for a long second before looking at his hands. "Hostages, extreme situations military profiles, assault teams," he listed. "Even people under witness protection."

He stopped and looked back at Dean. "Undercover agents." He finished.

"Cas—"

"The first thing are the eyes. It's the most difficult to notice. Whenever you enter a room, the first thing you do is note all possible exits. Every time. In my office, the diners, the Roadhouse, also the supermarket," Castiel continued. "It takes less than a second to assess all exits."

"I—"

"The second is the study of faces. This one can easily be mistaken for inattention or even curiosity. You scan the crowd and whenever someone enters the room you're in, you will always take a look. Probably to see if that's someone you know, assess if you are still safe in said room."

Dean kept silent. His mind was blank.

"And the third is the tension in your body. Again this can easily pass for hyperactivity or nervousness, when it is actually your muscles being conditioned for immediate response."

Dean could not believe it. Surely Castiel was pulling his leg! He never did any of these!

"Cas, really—"

"Except now," Castiel interrupted him for the last time. "Now you are relaxed. Well, just before I opened my mouth you were," he said apologetically. "No looking around, no body tension."

Dean sat a little straighter.

"No glances toward the door. You are relaxed. And it's nice to see you like this."

Dean swallowed. He looked at Castiel, studying his expression which only showed amiable concern and sympathy. It even seemed to Dean that his eyes were bluer than ever, as if they were piercing right through him to lay his soul bare in front of them. It was intimidating.

His first reaction was anger. He felt heat rise through his body. How could a stranger try to decipher him like this? But then, it was Castiel. An overly patient little guy who always looks at Dean with respect and care. He even thought 'lovingly' but refused to acknowledge it. So yes, Castiel meant well.

"You're probably right," Dean muttered after a while, looking at his hands on his lap. He did not need to glance at Castiel to know he was tilting his head with a soft smile. "I just…" he tried to express his thoughts but what Castiel told him messed him up a bit. "I guess I do that. Makes sense really," he finally said. "I didn't know I was doing it. Now that it's all over, you know?"

He heard Castiel nod with a little hum.

"You just can't shake it off like this."

"Dean, it's not a criticism," Castiel explained in a deep voice, making Dean look up and see his serious face. "All I'm saying is that, yes you do that, which is normal due to your past. But right here, in your apartment, you don't. You are relaxed. And safe. And this suits you better than being on edge."

Dean felt heat creep up his cheeks. For the second time of the evening, he got up and went straight to the kitchen, mumbling something about coffee. Without even asking Castiel, he brewed two cups and brought them back once he felt less exposed. During that time, Castiel just sat silently, doing nothing. Weird guy, Dean thought.

Dean, who desperately wanted to change the topic, talked some more about Sam, his parents, his car. It was nothing new and he felt like he kept repeating himself which must bore Castiel to death. But clearly the guy was too polite to make Dean shut his mouth. So he chatted some more and when they realized it was almost midnight, Dean insisted to drive Castiel back home who agreed once he checked the bus schedule and understood there was no service for the night.

Like usual, the drive back was quiet, a comfortable silence between them, with only the Beatles as background music. In a few minutes, they reached Castiel's office. They agreed to meet the next day in front of the theater, then wished good night.

(***)

Dean went through the arrested names at least twenty times, cross-checking each and every one of them. Something did not add up. He remembered very well how Alastair compared himself to the Messiah, saying he had his faithful apostles and that none would turn like Judas did.

That meant twelve people. But was Dean considered an apostle too? Sure, he used some of Alastair's techniques, under his very own supervision. However, he, (thankfully!), was never invited to one of their "communion nights". With Alastair, twelve people were behind bars, waiting for the trial. Did that mean that there was a thirteenth still out there? Or was it supposed to be Dean? In which case the Judas case he pulled off really was hilarious. He was not sure.

He read reports and testimonies and everything lead to Dean being the last member of their gang. But his Spidey-senses tingled too much for him to ignore it. Something was not right. Who got loose and killed Martin? Or was it just coincidental? Or maybe some deranged person who wanted some publicity and to get Alastair's attention. Everything was possible. This whole case was a big mess.

He asked Victor to ask around for Martin's last days, who he met, what he did. Victor was reluctant at first, being buried in three new possibly Bela Talbot related robberies. But when Dean insisted, he agreed.

"That's gonna cost you, Dean. You do realize that?" he warned.

Dean sighed and nodded. "Whatever you need, buddy. It's yours."

"Even that car of yours?" Victor asked, a little smirk showing he knew very well what he was asking.

"Don't push it!"

Victor let out a snort and shook his head. But Dean knew they had a deal. Victor would be his eyes on the field as he was still tied to his desk.

"Then maybe, you can tell me more about that sweet lady of yours?" Victor pressed on.

Since the last Thursday where he thought Dean had a date, which Dean clearly did _not_ as it was just two friends going to the movies, Victor kept on asking about his 'date'. Despite Dean's answers, explaining there was no 'date', and being just friends, Victor seemed to have taken a liking in teasing him. He was sure Dean was dating a hot model and that he wanted to keep her away from Victor. Dean insisted he was meeting a friend, male, but Victor did not believe him.

"I'm not, Vic! I'm really not dating anyone!" Dean replied.

"So, you being in a hurry today is not cause of someone?" he teased.

"I don't want to be late is all," Dean explained, trying hard to not look pissed, which he was really starting to be.

"At least tell me her name?" Victor asked again.

"There is no one! Vic, seriously dude!" Dean almost shouted. "No woman, no girlfriend! Got it?!"

Victor rolled his eyes and looked back at his computer screen. "Sheesh, no need to be angry. Just askin'."

Dean let out a long and loud sigh, then focused on his work.

Soon after, he drove to the theater where Castiel was again waiting for him. As soon as he spotted Dean, he smiled and waved two pieces of paper. "Got the tickets," he announced with a grin.

They watched the movie and Castiel enjoyed it, though he preferred the first one.

"Wait till you see the third before making up your mind," Dean said.

Castiel decided it was good advice, then accepted the drive back with Dean.

(***)

The next Wednesday came way too slow for Dean. Victor did not bring anything relevant from his interviews and Bobby still refused to let him go back in the field. To Victor's delight, Dean filled all his reports and started to bring muffins to the precinct as he began to be fed up with the donuts.

However, to Dean's annoyance, Victor noticed he was hurrying up and started teasing him again. Which turned out to a full on interrogation.

"So you do meet someone every Wednesday?" he pushed.

"Yes," Dean replied.

"Since what… two months ago?"

"More or less."

"Every Wednesday."

"Yes!"

"And Thursdays too?"

"No, that's exceptional," Dean explained, feeling tired already. "Seriously, dude, what's the problem?" he asked, massaging his hand against his forehead. "You're being a pain, you know that?"

Victor, who was standing next to him, sat halfway on Dean's desk and looked at him straight in the eyes. His face more serious than Dean had seen all day. He inhaled deeply and Dean knew he was not going to like what was coming next.

"Dean," he started. "You're seeing someone every. Damn. Wednesday," he continued, articulating each word slowly. "And now go to the movies. Every. Thursday. In which world… I mean, in which kind of screwed up world are you living and not see that you're dating?"

Dean frowned. "Victor, I already told you. We're just friends."

"Didn't you cook for him last time? Invited him over?"

Dean shrugged. "Well, yeah. But that means nothing. Even Benny comes over from time to time and I cook for him. He's married, dude!"

Victor did not divert his gaze, but lowered his head. Every pore of his skin screamed disbelief. "You're dating," he declared.

"We're not…"

Victor suddenly stood up and walked back to his desk, throwing the papers he held in hand on the hard surface. "Damn you're dense!"

Dean rolled his eyes and threw gum at Victor's head. "Did you ask Lilith out? Or did you chicken out again?"

"You're still dating and you better realize it before someone finds something better elsewhere!" Victor shot back, throwing the gum back at Dean.

Once his day was over, he drove straight to Castiel's office. Victor's words running around in his little head. Yes, of course, it looked like dating. But surely Castiel did not see it that way. Plus he was with Meg, so… He tried to push his thoughts the further down he could. He parked the park in front of the building, walked to the entrance and rang thrice, in short succession, before entering the building and climbing the stairs. To his surprise, the office door was opened and Meg absent. Castiel appeared from his desk a few seconds later, dressed and ready to go.

"Hello Dean," he greeted. "I figured it would be you."

"Oh, the three rings? It's my signature entrance!" he laughed. It was not funny. At all. He knew that, but that still made Castiel smile, which filled him with joy. "So, Meg's not here?"

"Yes," Castiel confirmed "as it seems we have a little burger tradition on Wednesdays, she leaves earlier. She thanks you for that, by the way. But also warned us to not only eat greasy food because she doesn't want to be the one to bury me." He shook his head. "She swore she'd leave me to die on the floor if I ever have a heart-attack."

"Well, that's reassuring," Dean said, not sure how to react.

"Don't worry," Castiel assured him. "She was just being her unapologetic-self," he said with a smile. "Do you have any place in mind?"

"I thought maybe the Roadhouse?" he suggested, glad for the change of topic. "Good for you?"

"Perfect," Castiel replied.

He locked the office and they left Chicago for the evening.

Once they sat down in the same booth as the last time, Ellen came to take their orders. She did not even bother with a menu and they ordered the same burgers and beer.

"So, where's Jo?" Dean asked.

"Out with Meg apparently," Ellen replied with a shrug. "Not sure what is going on between those two and I'm not even sure I want to know."

Castiel chuckled. "They will be fine," he assured Ellen.

She sighed. "They better be, Hon'. They better be."

Dean managed to hide his surprise. "It's cool you guys see other people," he said, not really wanting to talk about Meg but hey! If she was cool with Cas eating out with him, it was worth mentioning.

"I don't see why we couldn't," Castiel replied while shrugging of his coat then his jacket.

"Well, most couples I know are just glued together, you know? They're always doing stuff together. Which is cool, I guess. But then you just can't have one without the other. And that's cool, you know? But if you want to spend time with someone. Not that you don't like the other! Of course! But see, couples are—" Dean stopped his rambling when he noticed the look on Castiel's face. "What?"

"Dean… Meg and I are not a couple. We're not engaged." Castiel clarified, his brows raised almost to his hairline.

"Oh? … oooooh! Crap!" Dean swore. "I mean sorry! I just thought…"

"I'm single," Castiel continued.

"Right! Okay!" Dean breathed in. "Sorry dude! I mean, that's cool. Well, no. That's not cool." He knew he was rambling again but just could not stop. "But cool for telling me! Not that's it's cool for you. Or for me—"

"Dean," Castiel interrupted him with a smile. "It's alright. Many people are confused. Ellen thought we were married. Apparently Meg scolding me for eating like a 'peasant' when it came to burgers made her think that."

"Oh…" was the only thing Dean managed to utter. His brains cells were overheating. He felt the heat creep to his cheeks and despite his thought running way past speed limits, he just could not think of anything to say.

"We have dated, though." Castiel continued, eyes fixed on Dean. "A few years ago. She came as a client. Then…" he hesitated. "Well, let's say she was not too happy with her current situation. And one thing leading to another. Or more like Meg taking the reins, we got involved. We soon realized that it would not work out, despite caring deeply for each other," he explained. "When she realized how buried in work I was, she decided to help me out. And well… might as well hire her officially."

Dean noticed the fond smile Castiel wore when talking about her. Yes, he really cared for her, it was almost tangible. He could not help but remember Victor's words. Maybe he was right. Maybe they have been dating? Was Castiel aware of this? Was he even willing to date Dean? Knowing was he had done? His palms were getting sweaty. He hated that and tried to keep them spread on his thighs. The fabric would help. But he felt too hot. He had already dropped his jacket and was left with only a Henley.

Lucky for him, Ellen came back with the beers. He immediately snatched his and gulped it down almost entirely, under Castiel's scrutiny. When he needed to breathe, he put it back on the beermat and took a deep inhale.

"Now you know," Castiel commented.

"Yeah," Dean chuckled. He was going to need more drinks coming. Sooner rather than later!

"How about you?" Castiel asked, his gaze not wavering a little.

"Nah, all free!" Dean joked.

"What about Benny?" Castiel insisted.

 _Okay, more beer!_ "What about him?" he asked while gesturing for Ellen to bring another one.

"You know I am good at reading?"

Dean gulped down the rest of his glass.

"I'm even better at reading between the lines." Castiel stated.

Dean mind was a litany of ' _Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Sunovabitch! The hell?! Fuck!_ '. He forced a smile on his face. He had two options. Lying through his teeth or telling the truth. He was not sure he was up to the latter. Repressed memories and feelings never got anything good. Plus that meant admitting something he was not even ready to face. He looked at Castiel. The always so patient Castiel, hands wrapped around his beer, playing with the condensation on the glass. Fuck it.

"It's a long story," Dean started and forced another smile, trying to make himself feel better. "You got my complete file?"

"Almost complete, yes."

"You, err—" he tried "You have a mention about that time where an interrogation went south?"

Castiel nodded. "When Crowley's number four in command killed a suspected mole?"

"Yeah, that…" Dean kept silent for a couple of seconds, then took another inhale. "It was a fucked up night, Cas. I killed the guy. First time I ever killed anyone…" he looked down, remembering the whole scene as if it happened the night before. "Well, you have to start somewhere!" he joked and let an insincere laugh out. He would not fool anyone but it was worth trying. "So Benny helped me stage the whole thing. Then I told him I wanted out. I wanted out so bad, man." He let out a shaky sigh. "I wanted to see my brother, my parents, back to my old life. Man, I had just killed a guy! And I realized for the first time how screwed up the situation really was. How deep I was and how much deeper I might get."

He shook his head and drank a few gulps from Castiel's glass. "I wouldn't have imagined back then that Alastair would get me and start 'teaching' me. Anyway…"

He shot a quick glance at Castiel who was listening carefully. Dean's resolve started to waiver but he knew he had to keep going.

"I told Benny how screwed up it all was. That there was no way I was going back. So he took me out. We drank. A lot. He heard me out, for hours, man! Hours!" he insisted. "And he just listened and you know, was just there. I don't know if he knew or not, but I kinda liked the guy. This whole bear style got to me." He cleared his throat and averted Castiel's gaze. "Yeah well, I was drunk to the point of almost passing out. He was not any better. Or just a bit. So we decided to wait it out in the next motel. Got a room and all and then, don't know what happened, don't know who started it, but err—" he licked his lips. He remembered the taste so vividly. "We kissed. A lot." He chuckled. "Actually! T'was the longest makeout session in my life!" he joked. "But Benny stopped before it got err—serious."

"I see," Castiel commented.

"He explained that we were both drunk and that we'd regret the decision. He wanted us to have our minds clear. So we slept it off. He somehow managed to get me back on just for a little while, just to be on the safe side to not blow my cover. And he dropped me off at Lisa's, who I'd been flirting with for a while but nothing had happened yet."

Dean scratched his nose, reaching to the part of the story that hurt. "He was dating his girlfriend at that time. Two days later he apparently proposed to her and she said yes. Been married to Andrea ever since. The rest, you know. Lisa, Ben, Crowley behind bars, and me back in the Force."

Castiel nodded. Dean was still avoiding his gaze but he heard the small 'hmm'.

"Do you regret it?" Castiel finally asked.

"What happened? No." Dean replied with assurance, facing Castiel. It was a memory he will cherish despite the small pang in his heart. "That nothing happened? I don't know," he answered honestly. "Anyways, he moved on, I moved on, he's one of my best friends, so we're cool."

"Have you?" Castiel asked, head slightly tilted.

"What?"

"Moved on?"

Dean laughed. "Dude, I was with Lisa for years! Yeah, you bet I moved on!"

Castiel did not look convinced but he did not push. He took his beer and slowly drank a few gulps. Dean really needed his urgently. He gestured again to Ellen who shot him a warning glance. He grinned and looked down. A part of him was wondering if he really was over Benny. The feelings he had for him were different than the ones for Lisa. He still found his friend attractive and perhaps the lower part of his body would not be against some action with him. But, thinking back at that time, Dean knew that his affection for Benny shifted.

He still considered Sammy his best friend, despite all these years, but in reality it was Benny who was there and helped him. Even Lisa could not bring him solace like Benny did. No, he decided. Benny was his friend, and that was it. Plus, he could not ignore that little spark in his heart whenever he thought about Castiel, who was single, his mind reminded him. _Fuck it_ , he thought. _Feelings! That's crap!_ He better drown himself in alcohol and forget all about them. Why did he even talk about that to Castiel? Should have lied through his teeth, really.

"It was hard," Castiel suddenly began, putting his empty glass down. "When Meg came to the office, seeing her but not being allowed to hold her."

Dean looked up and the moment their gaze met, Castiel diverted his eyes, focusing on his beer instead.

"She was the one who pushed for us to get together and it was really nice. She taught me what intimacy was and… I was glad and then resented her for it. Because when we broke up, she took it all away from me," he explained, his voice low. "My mother, as you know, was not really effusive. Having someone next to you, it was new. It took me a while to get over that. The worst part is that she is my closest friend. Despite her attitude, she cares deeply. And I will always love her," Castiel admitted.

"Wow, dude!" Dean exclaimed before he could catch himself, then instantly regretted it.

"I do. Really. Love takes many forms and my love for her is different now. I can only imagine that the feelings you have for Benny and Lisa are similar to this. But the need for intimacy cannot be assimilated as the feeling you have for a lover."

It was too much for Dean. There was too much to think about. He was getting fidgety, he did not know what to say, what to answer. Laying his soul bare was one thing. But for Castiel to do it too, trusting Dean to listen to him. It was too intimate for him. Dean was used to either get crushed and soldier on, or lie as a coping mechanism. Talking to Lisa had been difficult and that was months ago. Repeating the same with Castiel? Hell no. Once every few years was enough.

He scooted over on the bench and got up, excusing himself with a mumble about taking a piss. He did not look at Castiel and went straight past him to the restroom. He emptied his bladder and tried to regain some sense of calm. Again, his thoughts were a maelstrom of conflicting and opposite ideas. He really couldn't think. He felt humiliated and ashamed, which he knew was utter crap. He also felt pressure to become… something. He did not know what. It was all too probable that Castiel had too high expectations of him. Meeting Benny's, Bobby's, even Victor's and his other friends' was easy. It was just a question of 'not screwing things up'. Meeting Sammy's and his parents' was way more difficult. And now Castiel's went to that same bag, but he had not disappointed him as he already did with his family. God! He was such a screw up, he thought.

He washed his hands and splashed some water over his face. He had to get himself in check. When he was convinced he could face Castiel without another freak out, he walked back in and sat in front of him. During his absence, Ellen had brought the burgers and two full glasses of beer.

He looked at Castiel who did not show any sign of… anything, really. There was a tension between them and it was awkward.

Castiel took a fry and started to eat. Dean followed suit.

"I cannot imagine what the third movie will be about," Castiel said after a couple of minutes. Dean could have kissed the guy for changing the subject.

"Did you take a look? Got yourself spoiled or something?" Dean asked, eating a lukewarm fry.

Castiel shook his head. "No, I avoided anything related to Back to the Future. Meg blackmailed me and asked for her Monday in exchange for her silence."

"She's tough," Dean commented.

"She is. I had to accept otherwise I'm sure I would have found the whole movie's script scribbled in post-it all over my desk!" Castiel assured, rolling his eyes and making Dean laugh loudly. It was good, they were back on track.

They discussed some more and spent the rest of the evening as all the others. They ordered two coffees, black, to try to disperse all the alcohol they drank. Castiel insisted that it was useless but Dean said it was worth a shot. They talked some more before heading back to Chicago. It was well after 1am when Dean left Castiel with a "See ya tomorrow Cas!"

(***)

Dean spent the whole Thursday thinking about " _Am I dating Cas? Is he aware? Are we dating? Are we just bros hanging out?_ " to the point that he almost missed a detail during his investigation. The precinct where the investigation for Martin's was officially led (Captain Singer could not manage to get the file back, as there was no real reason for it, but Dean suspected it was a political decision) had a mismatch report in their evidence file. It looked as if a cellphone was recovered on Martin's body but not listed in the official reports.

He immediately called Victor, who was out collecting a statement from someone who claimed to have seen Bela Talbot. His partner did not pick up so he left a message explaining the situation and asking Victor to go there to that precinct to pick up the phone.

Victor's reply came with a simple text a few minutes later. He could not do such a thing because it was not allowed and he had no contacts there. He also advised to call Benny who worked there for a few months. Dean did not waste any more time. He dialed Benny's phone and soon heard the rough southern drawl.

"Hey Benny," he greeted him. "I'm sure you're going to do me a favor!" he joked.

"Hello to you too, Dean. What is it this time? I swear if you're moving out of that butthole apartment of yours, you're gonna find other people to help!" Benny replied.

"Nah, it's about Martin," Dean explained in a more serious tone.

"Alright, shoot, brother."

Dean clarified his problem and what he needed Benny to do.

"So basically, you want me to break into the evidence room to get a phone and check the records?" Benny resumed.

"Yep."

"If I get fired over this, I swear I'm living off your salary for the rest of your damn life!" Benny shot but Dean saw right through it.

"If you're making that gumbo, I don't mind!" he replied, making Benny chuckle.

"Alright, brother. Let me see what I can do."

"Thanks Benny."

Dean's investigation was stuck and that phone could be the only piece that led to a new lead. Despite interrogating everyone around the block where Martin died, Victor had come back empty-handed. And according to Bobby's information, the detective in that precinct did not find anything either. They were all stuck and the only thing Dean had in his possession was Martin's file during his time in Crowley's.

About one hour before the end of his shift, he received a text from Benny.

"Totally broken" he read and immediately typed "Get it anyway".

He left his desk and walked down to the basement where Garth and Ash held their fort. It was a conversation to be kept off the record.

He walked down the flight of stairs and through the various corridors before reaching the IT room. He knocked twice and opened the door. Both Garth and Ash did not pay him a glance, too busy furiously typing on their computers.

He cleared his throat.

"Just a second," Garth said, not looking up from his screen.

Dean waited for a couple of minutes. He cleared his throat louder when he realized they were totally ignoring him. Finally Garth looked up. "Hey Dean!" he smiled before turning to Ash. "Pause, dude."

"Right… I was totally winning anyway." Ash commented with a satisfied nod.

"Come on, you weren't! Did you already write the loop?"

"Course I did!"

"Oh… okay maybe you were a little ahead then."

Dean took a step forward. "Guys?" he insisted, his voice louder harsher.

"Right, Dean! What can we do for you?" Garth asked and turned toward Dean.

"Is there a way to extract some information from a broken phone?" he asked.

Garth nodded. "Yes, of course. Unless the phone is totally smashed or burned, usually there are ways to get some data from it."

"Right. Cause-"

"But," Garth interrupted him. "There is an official path to do it. You have a dedicated lab for such evidence."

Dean cringed a bit. "Let's imagine that I need those data urgently."

"You better send them urgently, then," Garth replied.

"Dude!" Ash shot. "Is this about the same case as the file you asked?"

"Yes. I may or may not have an important piece of evidence. Would you guys be able to do it?"

Garth shot a glance at Ash who looked back at him. Suddenly, Garth stood up. "I don't know about you guys, but I really need coffee. See you in five minutes." He walked past Dean and pat him gently on the shoulder, forcing him inside the room, then closing the door behind him.

"Tell me all about it," Ash said.

Dean explained the case, letting out the fact that himself was undercover.

"But then," he said, "the telephone was listed on this report here, but not on the official one."

"You think a cop is involved?" Ash asked.

"Honestly, no. I just hope it was a case of simple mistake. But I'd like to avoid to send the phone for data inspection through the official channel as it was listed on another precinct."

"That might raise some suspicions," Ash commented.

"Yeah, it might."

"But dude, why don't you let the other detectives do their job? Why are you so inclined to deal with this? And yeah you said he's a friend, but really."

"Might be linked to the Crowley's organization. There might be one of them still out there," Dean explained.

Ash sighed. "Look, I'm gonna need a bit more than this. What you're asking is kinda big deal."

"Yeah, I know. But it's important. It's the only lead I got. All the others are dead-ends. And I want to catch his killer, you know?"

Ash did not seem convinced.

"Do you trust Captain Singer?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, dude, of fucking course!" Ash shot back with a face.

"Then ask him about it," Dean replied. "I'm one of the good guys," he affirmed, knowing very well how cliché that sounded.

Ash leaned back a little and crossed his arms. "You know what? Maybe I will."

The door opened and Garth entered, two cups of steaming coffee in hand. "Aaaand you're still here!" he said. "Great! I suppose it's time for me to go on a bathroom break?"

"Nah, it's cool man," Ash stopped him. "Dean, I'll let you know. I just need to think about it."

"Right, great. Thanks, I guess." Dean said and with that, left their fortress to go back to his desk. Once he sat down, he realized Benny had texted him, telling to meet at the coffee shop down the street, the one where Donna get her donuts.

Dean was a little frustrated, but he could not hold a grudge against Ash, who was doing his job. If a new guy, who just joined the precinct, would ask for such favors, without any assurance, he too would need to think about it.

He took his jacket and walked down the street to meet with Benny who showed up twenty minutes later. They hugged and without a word, Benny handed the phone, wrapped in a brown paper.

"I swear Dean, you better have a good idea of what you're doing." Benny warned.

"I hope so…" Dean admitted. "Thanks, really."

"Yeah, well, better watch out when I ask for a favor!" Benny shot back, half-joking.

Dean grinned. "How are you doing?" he asked after they gulped their coffee down.

Benny shrugged. "A little bit of this, a little bit of that, keeps me busy."

Well, that wasn't really a good omen, Dean thought. Benny seemed down and he still wasn't willing to talk to him.

"What are you gonna do with this?" he asked.

"Tried to get Ash to find whatever was on it," Dean explained. "But I'm not sure he trusts me enough to do it."

"In case you need help, brother, let me know," Benny said. "My assignment, it's a witness protection. Got some serious skills apparently."

"Thanks Benny, but I really don't want to involve outsiders, plus I'm not sure your witness is willing to do it either."

Benny raised one eyebrow and leaned a bit further on the table. "Don't worry about it. She's a real redhead. You should hear her talk about social justice! Learned a lot though."

Dean laughed. "You're married dude, don't get involved like that," he said, making Benny's eyes roll back in his head so far, Dean worried they might get stuck.

"Seriously, brother?!" Benny shot back with a face.

Dean frowned and apologized. "Sorry, that was out of line."

"Plus, she totally bats for the other team," Benny said. "Really, it's sad she's under heavy protection, she's great. You'd love her."

"Maybe once she gets out of this mess." Dean said. "You better keep her safe." he finished.

"Have I ever not delivered?" Benny asked with a smirk.

"Nah, she's in good hands," he approved.

A few minutes later, Benny had to leave and Dean returned to the precinct, having thanked his friend thoroughly. When he entered the room, he saw Ash's back in the corridor, just before taking the stairs. Dean sat at his computer and a few seconds later, he received an email from Ash. "Dr Bad-Ass in IN" was all it read.

Without losing any more time, he walked down, the brown package in hand. Once he entered the room, Garth rolled his eyes and left again. Dean took the phone out. It was a smartphone, not a recent generation though. The screen was smashed to pieces and it all seemed a bit crooked. It gave the impression that someone tried to smash it with a hammer or step on it.

Ash took a look at it. "I don't have the right connectors here. I'll give you the result tomorrow, that alright?"

"Yeah! Great! Thanks a bunch!"

His head filled with hope for a new lead, Dean finished his shift and left for the theater, where Castiel would, without a doubt, wait for him. And right he was. At the same stop than last week and the previous, Castiel was standing, arms hanging along his body, a little stiff. Again, he smiled as soon as he spotted Dean.

"Hello Dean."

"Heya Cas, I hope you didn't get the tickets yet?" Dean asked.

"Well…" Castiel replied with a raised eyebrow. "Actually I got this week's and… and the next." he admitted. "They will show a movie I haven't yet seen but heard a lot about. And I was wondering if maybe you would like to join me?"

Dean let out a loud laugh and smacked his hand over Castiel's shoulder. "Yeah, of course. What's the movie?"

"The Rocky Horror Picture Show."

"Holy crap!" Dean exclaimed before he could stop himself.

"Have you seen it? It is bad?" Castiel asked with a little crease between his eyes.

Dean opened his mouth and closed it. He tried to find the right words. But seeing Castiel's worried look, he just chuckled. "It's a great movie. You'll like it," he assured and clasped his hand on Castiel's shoulder another time.

"Let's go, then. Oh, and because you got the tickets, next Wednesday is on me!" Dean affirmed.

"Dean, there's no need to-"

"Nah," he cut, "called it first. If you wanna help, find the place, alright?"

Castiel nodded, a smile spread on his lips. "I will."

As they walked toward the entrance, Dean could not stop himself from being glad Castiel was so eager to meet with him. First every Wednesday, now every Wednesday and Thursday. It was great. Not only did it take Dean's mind of Martin's and Bela's case, but Castiel was great company and they really got along fine. More than fine actually. And Dean was possibly as eager as Castiel to meet up with him. More eager even. Okay, if he was honest, he may have developed a little crush on the guy. But, come on! He was good looking, incredibly smart, and funny even if sometimes not on purpose. Their conversation went from movies to food to politics. What Dean liked was Castiel's opinions were not shifting all over the place. He usually took Dean's points into consideration and offered counter-suggestions. He was also a great listener and really, Dean must make his ears bleed with his stories about Sammy and Baby.

As soon as he sat down, in the middle row, he could hear Victor's voice saying "You're totally dating!" And okay, maybe they were! But Castiel did not try anything so maybe he was not aware of that.

Unfortunately, Dean's mind circled back to the dating-thing and he did not really enjoy the movie the way he had wanted. Despite glancing at Castiel during his favorite bits, he left a little frustrated.

Thankfully, Castiel did not notice and without Dean even suggesting to give him a ride, he walked next to him toward Baby. Contrary to their usual drive, Dean talked about the movie, what Castiel liked, what he disliked.

"The best part is, if you watch the trilogy again, you'll notice stuff you haven't before."

"For example?" Castiel asked.

"In the first one, the mall is called the Two Pines Mall. But when McFly goes to the past, he runs over one pine. When he goes back to his time, the mall is called Lone Pine Mall. That was his doing."

"Interesting," Castiel acknowledge with a nod. "I shall rewatch the movies then."

Dean laughed. "Give it some time, Cas. Next week, it's… it's gonna be a bit different."

"How so?" he asked.

Dean chuckled, a little awkward. "Where do you stand on transsexuals, transvestites and homosexuality?"

Castiel turned an amused face. "Well, that sounds promising."

"Yeah," Dean laughed.

Castiel faced the road ahead. "I am supportive," he explained. "I try my best to be, really."

Dean sighed in relief.

They soon reached the little street and Dean parked in front of the office. Castiel always walked home from here so he must live in an adjacent street. Castiel climbed out of the Impala and thanked Dean again for the evening. Before he could slam the door, Dean called him.

"Yes Dean?"

"Cas, are we… are we dating?" he blurted, his mind short-circuiting him from expressing the question a more normal way.

To his surprise, Castiel's smile grew wide. "If you're asking, then you must already know the answer," he said, a little humor in his voice. He then shut the door and started to walk away.

Dean was dumbfounded. He saw Castiel, slowly strolling on the sidewalk. Before he could reach the end of the street, Dean scrambled outside the car.

"Cas!" he shouted, making Castiel stop and turn around. "Is that a yes?" he called, his voice loud.

He did not hear the laugh but noticed Castiel's shoulder tremble a little and possibly a smile on his face.

"Yes!" Castiel replied, just as loud. He gave a little bow with his head and went on his merry way.

Dean made a victory "Hell yeah!" and whooped before he could control himself. He felt a smile plastered on his face. They really were dating! A small voice in his mind told him that Victor was right all along but he silenced it. Victor would notice soon enough and brag about it.

He sat back behind the wheel and drove back to his apartment, happiness seeping through each of his pore. However, it all came to a halt when he saw Benny, sitting on the floor, against the wall next to his door, eyes closed, arms crossed on his drawn knees.

"Hey brother," Benny said when he opened his eyes and saw Dean standing in front of him.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean let Benny walk in. When his friend passed in front of him, he immediately took in the smell of sweat and alcohol. The strong kind, he noticed. As soon as he closed the door, he saw Benny make a beeline for the fridge and take out two beers. He opened them and hold one for Dean to take. Then, they walked to the couch and Benny let himself slump down. Dean sat next to him.

Apparently, Benny was not ready to talk just yet. He gulped half his beer down and let out a long sigh.

"I told you about that witness protection, right?" he asked after a while.

Of course he had, not six hours earlier he did. Dean nodded.

"Seems like we're moving to New York. Soon."

"We?"

"The witness and I," Benny clarified. "The assignment will apparently take longer than expected. Andrea is not happy at all…"

"Because you're moving to New York with a lesbian or because you'll be away?"

It was a rhetorical question, but needed to be asked.

"The later, but emphasized by the first. Apparently, being gay is not good enough. Andrea says she could be bi."

Dean shook his head. "That's lame. It's like saying you're unfaithful!"

Benny looked at him then back at his beer. "Right…" He drank the rest of it then stood up to get another. "You'll need to restock, brother!" Benny teased from the kitchen.

It was going to be a long night, Dean could feel it. Benny was finally speaking but Dean knew there was something else. He had to wait for his friend to spit it out. But when he sat back down, he just kept on drinking and did not seem ready for more.

"How long have you been waiting, Benny?" Dean asked.

"Dunno. One hour? More or less?" Benny shrugged.

"What happened?" Dean pushed.

"Life?"

"Dude…"

"Where were you? Did you find a nice girl for yourself, brother?" Benny asked, his usual drawl now dangerously dull.

"Nah, I was just out for a movie, a rerun of -"

"No girlfriend?" Benny cut him, eyeing him suspiciously.

"No girlfriend but-"

Before he really understood what was happening, Benny's lips were on his. The kiss was just like he remembered it. He was so drunk and he would never forget it. The softness of his lips, his beard catching on his stubble. Soon, he felt Benny's weight leaning on him. He was a big guy and Dean did not feel like fighting it. They slowly laid down until Dean's head rested in the armrest of the couch. He felt Benny's weight on him and he liked that so much. He opened his mouth, slightly, and Benny's tongue found its way in, licking his, playing, sucking gently. His body was on fire. It had been such a long time he felt like this.

Benny moved down to kiss his jaw, his neck, sucking tenderly at his earlobe. "Dean…" he growled. His voice came as a wakeup call to Dean's ears. It was all wrong, not the right timbre, not the right accent. Suddenly, he scrambled and pushed until he finally managed to sit, a bit out of breath, eyes wide opened, his heart racing like a Formula 1 in his chest.

"Stop!" he ordered Benny, one hand on his shoulder to push him further.

"Dean, what-?" Benny began, unbelieving.

"No, Benny. Stop." With a final push, he managed to put Benny back on his place and sit back, his feet on the floor. "Don't…"

He heard his friend let out a long, loud sigh then felt the couch shift a little. When he finally managed to look at Benny, his saw him slouching on the other armrest, one arm over his eyes. Dean's heart broke.

"I'm sorry… but I can't," he whispered, trying to gather his thoughts.

"Nah, you don't have to be sorry, brother," Benny said, without moving a finger. "It's me, I should be sorry. And I am."

"What happened, Benny?" Dean pleaded. "This isn't you."

The man let out a humorless chuckle. "Andrea kicked me out," he breathed out. "I've been sleeping on the couch for weeks. I tried my best, Dean. I really did. But it was just not working anymore." He swallowed with difficulty and sighed again. "It was getting insane. We fought for everything. Literally, everything. Wanting a kid, not wanting a kid. I don't want a kid just yet, that drove her mad. She said it was because I didn't want a child with her. Then, I thought about it and… Dean I love that girl but she drives me crazy! Then I said, okay, let's make one! And she screams that I don't give a crap about it. That I just want to get it over with."

Suddenly, the whole couch began to shake. It took Dean two whole seconds to realize Benny was laughing. Even giggling. He moved his arm from his eyes and Dean saw the wetness at the corner of his eyelids.

"It got to the point when I told her she was a prissy bitch! Because she didn't want to drink a beer!" He got into a laughing fit that did not seem to calm down.

Dean let him. Clearly he needed to get the tension out of his system one way or another. And if laughing his heart out would calm his nerves, so be it.

Benny tried a few times to articulate words, even sentences, but they all got lost in his giggling, to Dean's amusement even if the situation was really not. Leaving Benny to his nerves, Dean stood up, took their beers and emptied them in the sink after starting his coffee machine.

When he came back with two steaming mugs, Benny seemed to have calmed down. He sat straighter and had difficulties looking at Dean.

"Thanks brother," he whispered and took the cup.

"What are you going to do?" Dean asked, letting his mug cool down on the table.

Benny shrugged and managed to shoot him a glance. "I'll leave in the next couple of days. That kid, she's in real trouble. She managed to get sensitive intel and there's a price on her head. Seven figures."

"Crap!"

"Yeah. So I gotta focus on her 24/7. It's rough for her. More than it is for me." He blew a few seconds on the hot coffee and tried to drink but it was still too warm. He put the mug and side-eyed Dean. "You know, it's simple, really. If Andrea cannot understand or handle that this job's is what keeps me clean, then there isn't much choice, really. She wants to go back to Greece. She still has family over there and she wants me to go with her. But, I really can't. And I don't want to." He kept quiet for a couple of seconds. "So I guess it's the end of the line."

"Buddy, you can't just go to New-York and leave it like this," Dean said.

"Yeah, I know," Benny acquiesced. "I'll talk to her before I leave. We'll figure it out."

Dean nodded. That was for the best, really.

"And I'm sorry," Benny continued. "For forcing myself on you. I don't know what came over me."

Dean's jaw clenched. Were they really going to talk about this? Shouldn't a slap on the shoulder and a cup of coffee fix it? Probably not. He tried his best to keep a neutral expression. Especially when he knew how attracted he was to Benny and how really he had wished for this.

"I shouldn't have. I just thought about… in that motel, you know? These years ago?"

Dean gave him a sad smile. "Yeah, I know."

"I was kinda hoping you'd still want…"

Dean shook his head. "Buddy, your timing is the worst." He licked his lips, trying to find the best way to tell his friend the truth, and more importantly, where to begin! "I wanted to. Badly," he admitted. "But then, you got engaged, you married Andrea, I was with Lisa… and I kinda got myself a boyfriend? I guess?"

Benny let out a loud laugh. "You guess?"

"I guess," Dean repeated with emphasis and wide eyes to show his disbelief. "It's really new."

"How new?" Benny asked.

"Err… thirty minutes ago?"

"The hell?"

Dean sighed. "I'm dating Cas."

"Cas… as in Castiel Novak?" Benny said in a loud, skeptical voice.

Dean just nodded. Benny gave him a strange look. "You sure you want to take that crazy aunt on the way?" he asked.

"Benny…" Dean warned.

"Sorry. He's a little strange is all."

"Yeah, he is…" Dean replied with a smile. "He's endearing."

"Wouah, you got it good, brother!" Benny laughed and landed a hard slap on Dean's shoulder.

"Come on!" Dean protested with a cringe, making Benny laugh harder.

"Hey, Dean. We good?" Benny asked once he calmed down.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, we good. And you're staying here for the night. There's no way you're driving right now or I'll have to bust you for DUI. So, bed or couch?"

Benny smiled, looked down on his knees and nodded. "Thanks brother." He said slowly before facing Dean again. "Couch, I can't move. My head's a mess."

"Yeah? Well, wait till tomorrow! That'll teach you!"

Benny chuckled and started to pull off his jeans, shirt, T-shirt and cap, while Dean was fetching him some clean sheets and pillow. He brought him a glass of water and two pills for his hangover, just in case. Once he was settled, Dean wished him goodnight and retreated to his own bedroom. Once he was a bit cleaner and ready for bed, he took his phone out and typed "Night Cas". Only a few seconds later came his reply "Good night Dean".

(***)

"Are you sure?" Dean asked again. "No mistake?"

"Positive," Ash assured him. "Checked, double-checked, triple-checked. He was there three times within the week before he died. And stayed for fifteen minutes, twenty minutes and ten minutes."

Dean thanked Ash and walked back upstairs the fastest he could. Ash had printed his findings during the night and left the papers in his desk, under a boring looking folder. Dean had verified the information, the contacts Ash had pulled off the phone and the location. Thank god for GPS and geo-localization. Most of the places where already in the detective's report and checked by Victor for any witness or clue. But that place here? Around a corner, near Edgewater, not far from the place where his body was found. That was something new.

Immediately, Dean called Victor on his mobile. Fortunately, he picked up.

"Dean, this better be good!" Victor warned. He had asked for his morning off after all.

"You gotta help me out, man! I'll even let you ride my Baby for an hour!" Dean told him right away. He needed his colleague in the best disposition.

"Oh, that sounds desperate. Alright, whatever you need. In exchange for your car, for a whole day! Twenty-four hours, Dean."

"Shit, Vic, come on, buddy."

"There are no buddies when it comes to cars like this!" Victor retorted.

Dean sighed. "Alright, but you gotta do it today."

"Shoot."

"It's about Martin's case. He was at the corner of Magnolia and Devon. And there's no info about this on any report. Can you go and check it out? He was there three times. During the -"

"Hold on! Let me write this down." Victor grumbled.

Dean waited until Victor gave him the go. He detailed each date and time where Martin was located there.

"And what will you do?" Victor asked.

"There are some numbers I didn't identify. So I'll run them see if anything comes up. Might be burners."

"It's always burners," Victor sighed. "Alright, I'll check it out this morning, after the dentist."

"That's why you took the morning off? Dude, seriously?"

"Dental hygiene is important, Dean!"

"Yeah, whatever. Thanks man!"

"It'd say, you're welcome, but no. I expect you to respect the terms of our agreement!" Victor warned.

"Alright! Just go!"

They hung up and Dean wasted no time. He opened their database and added the numbers one by one. It would take time, but he'll get there. A lead was a lead, and this one was serious. He felt it in his guts.

Unfortunately, the phone numbers did not give any results. Most of them were probably deactivated and he needed a special access to search for them. Again, he'd need Ash's help. But first, he had to get some bribery. He left the precinct and walked to the café down the street where he bought one coffee and one tea, three donuts, two croissants, one triangle with caramel and chocolate, whatever that was, and one carrot cake. With that, at least Ash wouldn't be too angry at him.

He walked back to the precinct, fetched the numbers and beelined to Garth and Ash's office. As soon as he stepped in, Garth rolled his eyes.

"You know there is an official channel?" he asked Dean with an annoyed smile.

Dean tried to flash his most innocent grin and as Garth stood up and walked past him, he looked inside the paper bag and took the carrot cake out. "For my hard work," he said and exited the room.

"Look Ash," Dean started "I'm really sorry to ask you this, but it's really important."

"Yeah yeah. I know the drill. Come on!" Ash replied, unimpressed. "What'ya got?" He gestured toward Dean's bag who hurried to give it to Ash. He checked inside and took the triangle out and the tea. "Alright, what's up this time?"

"I got these phone numbers and can't get a name or a location." Dean explained.

"Burners?"

"Most likely."

"And you need it urgently?"

"Yes." Dean tried to look sheepish. "I know it's a lot to ask but if anyone from Crowley's still outside, it's gonna end bloody."

"Yeah, I figured," Ash said and caught the piece of paper from Dean's hand. "I'll give you a call when it's done. Stay tuned."

"Thanks Ash."

Once he got back to his desk, he noticed it was almost noon. He took his lunch, cup noodles, and went to the breakroom. As no one was there yet, he put some water to boil and took his mobile out and called Benny. His friend did not answer so he left a voicemail. When he had woken up, Benny was already gone and the sheets neatly folded. He knew Benny was alright but he just needed to be sure. As he poured the water on the dried noodles, he received a text from Benny. "Am alright. Got things to discuss with Andrea." That was encouraging!

The moment he put the first noodles in his mouth, Victor called his mobile. He answered as best as he could.

"Mpfo?"

"Dean?"

"Hmmm!"

"Please tell me you're not doing something filthy!" Victor shouted in a disgusted tone.

Dean swallowed, not even chewing properly. "M'eating!"

"Oh right… yeah… sorry. I got news for you. I went to Magnolia and Devon. There's this pawn shop across and the owner swore he saw Martin two out of the three times. Apparently, he met someone and the first time he left alone. The second time, which is the day he was killed, he left with the same person. A girl!"

"A girl?" Dean wondered.

"A girl!"

"Like… his daughter or something?"

"Nah, apparently she was a model or something. Tall, blond, long hair, skinny, expensive looking clothes."

"That's how he described her?" Dean asked.

Victor hesitated for a second. "More or less. He used terms like fuckable bitch."

Dean could hear Victor's irritation. "He said she looked less than thirty but I don't think he can be trusted on that. Might be his own little fantasy. He said she was way out of Martin's league, that's why he noticed."

Martin really was not the young and attractive type of guy, so Dean could understand why that attracted attention.

"Did he get a name or something?" Dean asked.

"No, but I got something good. The guy has been robbed a few times so he installed cameras all around his shop."

"And one is directed to the meeting point?"

"Straight at it!"

"Awesome!"

"He said he'll bring the videos over on Monday," Victor said.

Dean's blood froze for a second. "He can't just put it on a pen drive and give it to you?"

"I suspect some fishy business. Plus I don't have any legal way to force him."

Dean sighed. "Yeah, got it. Anything else?"

"Nope, but that's something to work with, don't you think?"

"Yeah, it's something. Thanks Vic, I owe you a big one!"

"The Impala, Dean. You owe me the Impala!" Victor retorted.

Dean hung up and started to think. First he needed to identify that mystery woman. He had no choice but to review all pictures of the Crowley's organization and associates to see if there was any direct connection, but he highly doubted it. Just from his memory, he could not recall anyone meeting that description. Then he had to check all of Martin's friends, relatives and co-workers. In the latter, smugglers, thieves, possibly hookers. It was a lot to check.

He gulped his noodles down and went back to his desk.

It took Dean a complete hour to review all the pictures, hesitating here and there but definitely striking the suspects out. That blonde woman definitively was not on the arrested list or even the suspects belonging to Crowley's. Which meant either she had nothing to do with Martin's murder and Dean was chasing a ghost, which was unlikely, or she was involved. That led to two other options: she was not part of Crowley's or she was and that was a serious problem. Unfortunately, all elements tend to point toward Crowley and his hellhound Alastair. Dean still could not reach a conclusion, whether he was part of the twelve followers or not, which left a big hole in the investigation.

"Take the worst case scenario, always the worst case scenario," he mumbled.

Worst case scenario, she's part of Crowley's, Alastair's apostle and she managed to go unnoticed. That endangered not only himself but also all others involved in taking down Crowley and his gang. And that meant a lot of witnesses and informants and… well… undercover cops. He knew he was not the only one, he was just the longest involved and the closest to Crowley.

He then checked Martin's family and friends, just to be on the safe side but nothing, of course.

Suddenly, he had an idea. Maybe that woman came by car and, by any chance, got fined. It was worth checking. He logged on his computer and retrieved the database like Victor had shown him. However, he got stuck as to what to write and where. The program was not really user-friendly and caused a lot of pain to everyone. Even the uniforms, according to Donna. Speaking of whom!

He stood up and walked up to her desk. She smiled at him and asked what she could do to help.

"Am I that obvious?" he joked.

She laughed. "Yes, you have this smile whenever you need something," she explained. "Come on, bring it on!"

Dean explained he needed to search for all fines in an area on three different period. Donna listened carefully and explained their tool was not well conceived for such research, but it was feasible.

"But, I have to admit, each time I asked Ruby to help me about," she said with a face. "I don't have her patience."

"The tool is that crappy?

"Oh ya!" she exclaimed. "You better ask Ruby. I'm sure she'll help."

Dean nodded and thanked her. He noted down the three dates and time and walked to the uniform's building. He spotted Ruby immediately, sitting at her desk. But the moment he walked up to her, she stood up and started gathering her hat and badge.

"Hey, Ruby, hi!" he called and hurried next to her. "Are you leaving?"

"Yep, shift just ended!" she said with a smile. "Been here since midnight, I'm out!" then she stopped and narrowed her eyes. "Oh no. No, there's no way—"

"It's just five minutes of your time!"

"No! I swear Winchester, my week-end is more important than whatever you want!"

"Come on!"

She shook her head and threw a lock of her brown hair over her shoulder. "Ask someone else."

"Donna told me to ask you."

Ruby's eyes widen, making her face look even more menacing than it already was. "You're not allowed to pull the Donna card! Not a newbie like you!"

"I swear it's just a question of minutes!" he insisted.

Ruby groaned and rolled her eyes. She looked at him and rolled eyes again and groaned louder before sitting down on her chair. "What is it?" she asked while starting her computer again.

"I need to know all the fines in a specific area during three different times," he explained.

"Are you kidding me?!" she shot loudly, making a few faces turn toward them. "Who told you it would take five minutes?!"

"I guessed," he admitted.

"You guessed…" she repeated. "Well, you guessed wrong. That kind of stuff takes a long time. And it completely blocks the computers, have you seen them?! Pretty sure they're working thanks to pedaling monkeys!" she growled. "I won't be able to do anything else! Chances are it will crash my computer!"

"At least tell me how to do it!" he begged.

She groaned one more time and looked at her screen. "Sit down, Winchester. And take notes!" He hurried to find a chair and sat next to her. He grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and wrote down every click he had to do to make the search. It was clearly not complicated, just some tricks to know. It took ten minutes for Ruby to explain how to proceed.

"Because I'm awesome like that, I'll let the query run on this computer. You do it on yours and in case your computer crashes, at least there's a chance to have the info on mine. Sound good?"

"Is it always that difficult? That you need someone else to run it too?"

"Yep."

Dean sighed then nodded. "Sounds good. Thanks Ruby."

"Yeah, make sure to tell Donna I helped you out!"

"That much eh?"

Ruby shrugged and turned off her screen, leaving her computer on. "Don't want to be the one to disappoint her."

Dean gave a little thought about it. "Yeah, I can relate to that." After all, he did not want to disappoint Sammy, or his parents, or Cas, or Benny, or anyone actually. If Ruby had Donna's opinion in high esteem, he could only relate to that.

After she told him she'd be back on Monday, he thanked her again and returned to his desk where he ran the query just as Ruby had shown him. After ten minutes, he realized his computer froze. He restarted it, which took again some time, double-clicked on the database and relaunched the query. With the same conclusion. He cursed and started over.

"Sunovabitch!" he shouted when his computer froze for the third time.

He stood up and looked around. Most of his colleagues already left for the week-end. However Rufus was on his desk, scribbling on some paper. He did not have time to open his mouth when Rufus held his hand up. "Don't even try, son!" he said with a warning glance.

"But—"

Looking straight at Dean with a death glare, Rufus continued. "Uh! Uh! Do I look like Ash or Garth to you?"

Dean had to take a step back. "No Sir," he said automatically. "It's just—"

"Son, I have my own problems with that damn network. You better start to take that into consideration before asking everyone to help you out!" he chastised him.

He did not expect that. Victor warned him about Rufus' bad temper, but this was extreme.

"Right," Dean answered with a forced smile.

He turned and decided to go back to the uniforms'. Maybe Ruby was still around. Just as he walked away, he heard Rufus and Devereaux start a shouting contest "You're an ass, Turner!" followed by "My ass gets cases closed, Frank!". How could Bobby tolerate them, he wondered.

Unfortunately, when he reached Ruby's desk, she had left and after moving her mouse, he saw her computer was password protected.

"Awesome," he sighed. He had to wait for her return on Monday.

When he got back to the detective's building, Bobby was closing his office. He turned and was clearly surprised the see Dean.

"I thought you'd be gone by now," Bobby said. "You do know that the whole network is down? Ash and Garth are on for some extra hours."

"That's just great," Dean commented. "What if I have to work?"

Bobby gave a shrug. "You'll learn to make some back-ups, and organize to avoid using the network after Friday at 4pm. That's when they usually do their…" he wiggled his fingers and made a face "stuff with the servers. Ask Ash, he lost half his mullet because of this!"

"Huh."

"Anyway, have a good week-end Dean. See you on Monday!"

He waved at Bobby and looked at him leave the precinct. So, what now? He had to wait for how long for the network to be back up? He couldn't just leave when he had a lead to check! It seemed he was the only one left. Even Sergeant Mills was gone. "Fuck this!" he growled. He took his jacket, shut down his computer and left, promising himself to be back on Monday first thing in the morning.

Then, he drove straight to the Roadhouse where Jo served him a large draft beer and started to tell him about Meg and how funny she was. Hearing about Meg somehow made his mood worse. It was pure and plain jealousy. Most certainly, she had kissed Castiel, or even gotten intimate with him. All the things Dean couldn't wait to do with the guy but didn't know how to approach the subject. Because a "yes we're dating" shouted from the other side of the road really did not satisfy him entirely. He wanted it official, kiss the little nerd and get physical. However for the last part, as he never got that far with a man, he would need some information, but he felt like all the gay porn he watched would only help that much.

He sighed. He knew how to date girls. At least at the beginning. He was mostly awful on the long run, except with Lisa but she was special. Dating a man? That was new. Was he supposed to text the guy here and then? Ask him out every once in a while even though they already had a routine? Or show up with flowers?

At that thought, he chuckled. Certainly Castiel would tilt his head and squint a little. Even a lot! And maybe he'd smile at the end? Yeah, he better write that idea down to test his theory. _For science_ , he told himself.

He ate a steak with mashed potatoes, because burgers were now closely linked to Castiel and humored Jo the rest of the evening, talking about nothing and everything. Sure she grilled him about Castiel. News traveled fast apparently, but he refused to indulge her, especially since he was not entirely clear on the situation himself.

When the other patrons came in, a few hours later, Jo and Ellen got busy so he left, leaving a very generous tip for Jo as he understood she really wanted to spend nice time outside with Meg. That was the least he could do.

He drove home and relaxed. He even read a book and slowly, he forgot about Martin's case.

During the week-end, he called Sam and they talked about Gabriel who apparently decided he wanted a change in his life. For one short second, Dean feared Sam would announced they'd split but no. Gabriel had some whims he loved to indulge from time to time.

"He bought a candy store," Sam announced with a loud sigh.

"A candy store?"

"A candy store."

"What's he gonna do with a candy store?"

"There's the thing. A candy store sells candies, right?" Sam said and Dean could hear the annoyance in his tone. "But noooo, Gabe wants to eat the candies _before_ they're sold!" he emphasized.

Dean chuckled. "Does he know what the role of a store is?"

"Apparently, no!" Sam stated with a huff.

"You alright Sammy?" Dean asked. Another sigh answered him. "Wanna come over for a week-end?"

"I'd like that, but I can't. There's a lot of cases I'm working on. Plus most of my holidays will be taken during New Year."

"Right. New Year. And Christmas. Right. Where are you going again? Oh right, Europe. Right." Dean sneered.

"Dean," Sam warned. "Don't start this again."

He grumbled. He was not over this and wanted to complain every time he could.

"Dean," Sam repeated "if you're going to be a dick about this, let's just hang up!"

That immediately brought Dean's mind to a halt. "Nah, I'm good. So no time for your old brother?"

"How about you come over?" Sam asked. "Gabe has lots of time off between his… business or whatever. He can show you around. I have my week-ends."

Dean thought about it. "Yeah, I gotta check with my Serge. Maybe get one or two days. I'll see what I can do. Maybe next year?"

"Next year is in two months, Dean."

"Almost three!" Dean corrected.

"Yeah, yeah. Oh, got another call. Gabe. Let's hope he didn't stick his hand in a jar and got stuck. Again. Bye Dean!"

He hung up before Dean could utter a single word. A bit frustrated, but still glad he talked with his little brother, Dean watched some TV and went to bed. He spent the rest of the week-end buying groceries and cleaning his tiny apartment. He had planned to invite Castiel over for another burger-party and wanted it to be spotless. Thankfully, he liked to clean when his head was a little full. Lisa loved that side of his character. Now, his home was spotless, which gave him a semi-sense of fulfillment. Martin's case kept on running back on his mind and if he caught thirty minutes break, he considered himself lucky.

He rolled up his sleeves and decided it was time to wash all the bed sheets he owned. And the duvets. That'd do!

(***)

On Monday morning, at 7am sharp, he sat in front of his computer, running the query again. He had to find something. Anything! The leads were getting thin and he did not want all his hopes to rely solely on the video surveillance of a pawn shop. Also, as soon as Captain Singer would show, he'd ask to go back on the field. Remaining in the precinct all day was driving him crazy. Plus that only slowed down his training which was unacceptable. At least now he was the most efficient detective for reports. Even Sergeant Mills asked him for help.

After almost thirty minutes, the results finally came. He printed all fines and started to cross-check with the DMVs records. But none of the cars belonged to a blonde or to anyone linked to Crowley's. He kept two licenses belonging to women who could match the description but weren't blonde and whose records were clean. So it was unlikely.

Then, he went to Captain Singer's office to plead for his release but got denied. Worse, he learned he'd have to stay put for another month at least. That was driving Dean crazy. But Bobby did not fold.

Around ten, he received a message from Ash and he rushed downstairs.

"Good news and bad news," Ash said after Garth left grumbling about cheesecakes.

"Bad news first."

"None of the numbers are matching any database I have. And none are switched on at the moment." He told Dean.

Dean clenched his jaw. This day was just getting better and better. "Good news?"

"One of them got pinged across town a few times. But the towers are large so it's difficult to place the signal exactly. However!" he emphasized by raising his index. "Did you know that this area here," he gestured around him "is at the junction of three towers? Which is why most of us lose our battery power that much faster and the signal that regularly."

"It was here!"

"Yes."

"The cellphone was here! In this precinct?"

"Well, that area. Count the block actually," Ash clarified.

"When?" Dean asked, barely containing his excitement.

"About three weeks ago. That's as far as I can go without arousing suspicions. If I have to look further in the past, I need some special equipment and…" he left his sentence hanging.

"No, I get it Ash," Dean assured him. Of course Ash would not set his job on the line, he barely knew Dean and he already helped so much. "Do you have the exact date?"

"Certainly, my good sir!" He handed him a little post-it. "Does this help?"

"More than you know!" Dean exclaimed. "Thanks Ash! You're the best!"

"Say that louder!"

Without a look behind, Dean ran the stairs up to his desk. With a little chance, it was someone who was arrested on that day. He started to review the register for anyone who entered the precinct. Mostly, it was criminals or suspected criminals that the detectives brought in for questioning. All visitors had to be registered too. The list was long but he had a lead. He couldn't let it slip now!

At 1pm, Dean was hungry, frustrated, and angry. There was nothing of significance, not a single person would match the description. His anger rose to levels he really did not want to reach. He went to the break room and got himself a cup of coffee with lots of cream and sugar.

All his leads got him straight to dead ends. At this point, holding a wet finger in the wind would be just as successful to find a suspect. His only hope was to get the videos and go through them. Perhaps he'd find something.

As he left the breakroom, Donna walked with him. They talked a little. Joking with her always made him feel better. Suddenly, he realized he had been too focused on his own little office. There was the uniforms' building, plus all the surrounding buildings! He excused himself and ran to the uniforms. He walked to the agent at the reception desk and asked for the registry for that specific date. With a strange look on his face, he handed it to him and asked for it back. Dean nodded. He noticed Ruby's desk was empty so he settled down there and started to browse the names. None of them were known to him but that did not mean anything. As he moved the mouse to use the computer, he saw the locked screen. Again he forgot it was not his, hence password protected. And Ruby was nowhere to be seen.

With a big sigh, he found a piece of paper and started to write down all names and information the registry provided. As he was halfway through, he felt a presence behind him along with a strong perfume smell he recognized immediately.

"Hello Lilith," he greeted as he turned to face the police officer.

"If you mess up Ruby's desk, she'll be pissed!" she said with a smirk. "You don't want that."

"I don't want that," he confirmed with a forced smile. He did not feel comfortable around her and the fact that Victor had an eye on her made it worse. He really did not want to be seen flirting, or any other misleading behavior from his side, with her.

She took a step around Dean and sat on the desk right next to him, arms crossed. She leaned a little, too close for his liking, and looked at the registry. "Why don't you photocopy it?" she asked.

"It's almost in shreds already." Dean replied. "Let's not make it worse." He forced a smile and went back to write on his paper sheet.

"What's the deal, Winchester?" she asked, not moving. "Can't do anything without the uniforms?" she continued in a sneering tone. "It's about time you guys realize you can't do anything without us."

Dean looked down and gathered all his zen attitude. "As much as I agree with you, I have work to complete. So if you don't mind…"

He gestured for her to move along but again, she did not move. "Maybe I can help. What are you looking for?"

"All the people that came in that precinct. I'm looking for a suspect. But you know, it's tedious and boring. Nothing fun really."

"What date?"

Before he could tell her to see if there weren't any car she should fine, she took the registry and turned it around.

"What's so important at that date?" she asked while pushing the book back in place.

"I'm looking for a suspect in a murder investigation," he said. "But I'm kinda busy so…" he gestured for her to move. To no avail.

"Murder? Aren't you supposed to work on the robberies with Viccie?" she wondered.

Dean let out a bark. "Vic… Viccie?!" he repeated. "This is a joke?!"

She laughed, her smile too wide, showing too many teeth, too bright. Dean clenched his jaw. She really had a way to get on his nerves. He didn't even know why.

"Oh, we're tight!" she said, her tone implying more than Dean really wished to know. "He can barely keep it shut. Well… you know… pillow talks!" she continued, her smile still plastered on her lips.

"You don't say?" he replied. "Sorry Lilith, real busy here. We'll talk later."

"Whatever! Winchester." She got off the desk. "I was just trying to help. Ah well, my shift's over anyway. See you soon!" She winked at him and walked away while Dean forced a polite smile on his face. She was too strange for him. Always walking around the precinct, not really talking to him but clearly knowing everything, to the type of cases he worked on. She looked more like a vulture than a cop in his eyes. Despite her hourglass figure and jaw-droppingly gorgeous body, which Dean would have swooned over only a few years back, he only received bad vibes from her. Something in her attitude maybe. Or perhaps it was Dean who matured and stopped running after any lady that caught his eye.

He turned on the chair and finished his task, then left for the detective's building where he reviewed each name just like he did. It took a very long time and when no real result came up, his frustration was at its peak.

Victor had to spend his day outside interviewing witnesses about the robberies, which meant he'd come back with a ton of information and paperwork to fill in, which gave Dean a headache just thinking about it. Since his day had been frustrating, he decided to leave, on time for once, and continue his research the next day as it was too late to patrol the block. He'd also fill in Victor's reports afterwards and talk to him about spilling all their cases to Lilith.

He took his jacket and left. It was just after 5pm when he climbed behind the wheel of his beloved Impala. He did not feel like going home just about now. Going to a bar alone was not an option. He took his mobile out and texted Benny.

"Bar? Now?"

"No can do brother. Raincheck? Before I leave for NY," came the answer shortly after.

Dean sighed, the day was not improving the least! He felt like a sitting duck, which sucked. Maybe he could text Castiel? Ask if he wants to grab a bite somewhere? He'd just have to wait several hours for Castiel to leave work. Or maybe he could wait in the lobby and chat with Meg? He was not sure how appreciated he was, so maybe it was better to wait in the car.

Suddenly, he remembered what Castiel told him last week. Meg had asked for her Monday off! Which meant Dean could wait in the lobby without any awkward discussion with Meg. Plus, he could show up and surprise Castiel and maybe even push him to leave work earlier. _Let's do this_ , he thought.

He started the Impala and drove to Castiel's office. Of course, it was rush hour. It took him longer than expected but despite the heavy traffic, the road blocks and the bad drivers, Dean was in a better mood. He would see Castiel soon, and hopefully spend a nice evening together. Maybe he'd get to kiss the guy? Wait… if they ended back in his apartment, did he have all the necessary material for… "Crap!" he swore loudly. He'd need to make a pit stop at some point. Or maybe they could take things slow? Slow was a good idea actually. Sure, Dean wanted Castiel between his sheets at the soonest, but just spending some time with him, just talking, was enough to brighten his day. Though a kiss or two wouldn't hurt.

He parked the Impala at his usual spot, a few meters from the building entrance and in front of the little parking lot behind the building, next to the emergency staircase. He climbed out of the car and locked the doors. It was almost 6pm which meant that possibly all Castiel's clients already left. He walked up to the entrance and pushed the bell thrice, just to let Castiel know he was here.

The moment he opened the door and stepped in the building, he heard the characteristic sound of a gunshot. His heart missed a beating. Before he realized what he was doing, he ran the stairs up to Castiel's floor and burst the door open.

"Cas!" he called.

There was no one in the lobby. He hurried to Castiel's office and opened the door. On the floor, a hand over his bleeding shoulder, Castiel.

"Cas!" he ran, his footing slipping because of the papers on the floor, and knelt next to him. When Castiel tried to sit up, Dean told him to stay put.

"Dean. I'm fine." Castiel gritted between clenched teeth.

"Yeah, you are. What happened?" He asked while pulling his phone out of his pocket and dialing 911.

"She left. The staircase. Outside." Castiel's breathing was faltering.

"She?!" But at the same time, the operator answered his call. He gave his identity and badge number and asked for an ambulance to Castiel's office. He quickly assessed Castiel's general state. One single wound shot to the chest. The wound did not gush too much blood and the shot looked like it avoided major organs. He was a lucky son of a bitch!

"Dean!" Castiel called him to get his attention as he was still talking to the operator.

"Don't talk, buddy. Everything will be fine," Dean told him, then ended his call with the operator.

"Dean!" Castiel repeated, his voice low and ragged.

Dean tried to sound reassuring. "Help's on the way."

Castiel hissed. "Lisa and Ben," he tried. "She's after them!"

Dean's insides clenched. "Fuck!" he shouted. He wanted to rush to Lisa's but he could not leave Castiel like this. "Hang in there buddy. Help's on the way," he assured Castiel whose face became paler by the second. "You'll be fine."

"Go," Castiel exhaled, his jaw still clenched to manage the pain. "Go!" he repeated as Dean did not move. "She's a cop!" He inhaled with difficulty as Dean took in this information. "She knows everything!"

"Cas…"

"I'm fine! GO!" Castiel ordered him in a bark followed by a hiss of pain.

In a knee-jerk reaction, Dean stood up. With a last glance to Castiel, he walked away. She used the fire escape. He hurried to the opened window and looked down. Of course, by the time he got here, she had already left. There was no sight of her or any car driving away.

"I'll be back soon, Cas! I promise!" he shouted before leaving the office. He ran down the stairs like a madman and jumped in the Impala as soon as he unlocked her. He turned on the engine and while driving away, called Lisa's cellphone. "Come on, come on! Pick up the damn phone!" But a few seconds later, he reached the voicemail. "Lis, it's Dean! Take Ben and drive as far away as you can! Don't look back, don't take anything with you. Just leave! Trust me!"

He hung up and immediately dialed Benny's phone. Thankfully, his friend picked up immediately.

"Benny! Ben and Lisa are in danger!" he said before Benny could utter a single syllable. "Someone's trying to hurt'em or kill'em." His thoughts were racing in his mind. There was only one person that popped in his mind and he hoped he wasn't wrong. "It's Lilith!" It had to be her. "She's going after them! She knows!"

"Right. You stay put, I'll deal with that." Benny replied.

"To hell, Benny! I'm going! Call the back-ups! You know what to do!" He hung up, hoping Benny would be pro-active and let Bobby know, and start the investigation and warn the internal affairs about this. Okay, so, maybe it was a long shot and he might be wrong, which would backfire and he'd lose his job. But Lisa and Ben were most important. And if he was right, then there were still others of Crowley's on the loose and he just couldn't have that.

He drove like a madman, hand on the horn, the other on the wheel. He barely avoided two crashes but did not even caught on, as focused as he was to get to Lisa and Ben first. But everything worked against him. The traffic, the lights, people not moving out of his way fast enough. He did not even have his car certified for police. Which meant he had no beacon, no siren and the other cars avoided him by the sheer fear of getting bumped into. He cursed and cursed, shouting at every car that didn't let him through. The rush-hour circulation did not help. He was not one for praying but he suddenly felt the need to. If anything happened to Lisa and Ben, he'd never forgive himself. He also called Lisa's cell phone every five minutes, but each time he reached the voicemail. "Damnit!" he swore, getting angrier by the minute.

It took him less than an hour to reach her house, which was a small miracle as it was an hour drive in normal conditions. Immediately, he noticed the police car neatly parked in front on the house, three others pointing to the house and officers staying behind opened doors. He drove around the road block and parked on the opposite side of the road, behind Benny's car, and climbed out. Benny was talking to another officer and when he saw Dean, walked towards him.

"I got here five minutes ago," he announced. "The uniforms say everything's quiet. They knocked on the door but no one answered and all windows and entries are closed. They did not hear anything either. Maybe Lisa and Ben are out."

Dean shook his head. "Doubt it. When did they get here?"

Benny hesitated, which made Dean stop in his track. Benny doesn't hesitate. And he certainly doesn't make this puppy-eyed look.

"What?" Dean shot. "What's happening?"

"They screwed up," his friend explained. "They got here about ten minutes after I called them, just after we hung up. And they verified every entry, every window, tried to peek inside. Everything was normal."

"They left?!" Dean shouted. "Bastards!" he turned around and rushed to the first uniform he saw, only stopping because Benny held his arm and pulled him away.

"Don't! Stop!"

"You're telling me these useless bastards left?"

Benny nodded. "When they informed me, I swear Dean, I made hell fire rain on them. They immediately sent three cars but this car here already got there."

"I'll fucking kill them! With my own hands!" Dean shouted, trying to free himself from Benny's death grip on his arms. Never in his life did he feel this white anger burning hot within his guts.

"Stop!" Benny stood in front of him, like an unmovable rock. "We have no idea what's going on! I tried to call Lisa and she did not pick up."

"Fuck!" A cloud was settling in front on his eyes. Not only was it getting almost night and he could barely see, but he could not see clearly anymore. "Fuck!"

"Breathe, Dean." Benny told him.

He looked at his friend and wanted to deck him. How could he not see how fucked up everything was?! With a jerking movement, he managed to free himself. He took his phone out and dialed Lisa's cellphone.

After four ringtones, he finally heard a click. "Dean?" Lisa's voice was shaking.

"Lis? Where are you? Are you safe? Where—"

"Dean," Lisa interrupted him but did not continue. He heard another voice whispering but could not decipher what was being said. "Dean…" Lisa repeated. "I need you to come in. Alone and unarmed."

His worst fears just came true. "She's with you?" he asked.

"Yes."

"She can hear me?"

"Yes."

"I'm coming," Dean declared. He hung up and put his phone back in his pocket.

"Dean," Benny started in a warning tone "you can't barge in there without a plan or even back-up!"

"Yeah? Cause that's exactly what I'm gonna do!"

Benny took a step and stood in front of Dean. "No, brother, you're not," he said and held his hand up to prevent Dean from moving forward.

"Move, Benny," Dean growled. Despite Benny being his friend, he would not back away from a fight. His determination was absolute and Benny really should know better than stand in his way.

"Dean…"

Dean shook his head slowly, looking straight at Benny. In one swift motion, he took his service weapon and put it directly in Benny's palm. "Hold this for me," he said, then after two seconds. "Let me go. It's Lis and Ben…"

Benny took the pistol and shook his head. "Try to not get killed immediately and let me do my thing. Try to gain as much time as you can."

Dean nodded then shot a glance at Lisa's house. "Is this Lilith's car?" he asked. "Did you find anything?" he questioned when Benny acquiesced.

"Some revolvers, a colt, a few knives," Benny listed. "Took them all out as evidence."

He guided Dean to his own car and opened the trunk. A choice of weapons were stashed in a duffle. Immediately, Dean's interest peaked. He took a quick look and without losing too much time, grabbed a butterfly knife and hid it in his right boot, a smaller one in his left, a small revolver he studied for a second before throwing it back in the bag.

"If this goes south," Dean said with a patented grin, "you know who to contact."

Benny tilted his head and gave him the saddest smile Dean has ever seen. He wanted to hug him and tell him everything would be alright, but that meant letting go of his anger and that was precious fuel. His only goal was to get Lisa and Ben out of this. Get Lilith behind bars or, even better, six feet under! And if he managed to get himself out alive, he'd run to Castiel and apologize like never before.

 _No!_ Dean shook his head. _Don't think about it_ , he disciplined himself. _Think about Lilith and how to bring that bitch down_. He turned to Benny who was looking at him with drooping eyes. He seemed miserable, and yet Dean was the one who might get killed. Oh right, Benny knew that.

Dean forced a smile. "I'll let you handle this from here. See you soon Benny!"

His guts churning, anger boiling deep inside, he faced the house and walked past the policemen who let him pass without a word. _Benny must have told them_ , he thought. When he reached the front door, he knocked. His mind noticed that the white paint got dirty here and there. He was the one who painted it not even a year ago. Should have used better paint, not the cheap one. Still, it was a bargain, he remembered. Lisa had wanted ivory or lavender blush. Like Dean knew what these were! But money was tight. Money was always tight! And then came the special sales. Dean had been so happy to find them. Looking back, perhaps Lisa just humored him. Maybe if he got the ivory or lavender blush she would not be held hostage. Maybe…

The door creaked opened and he saw Lisa eyeing him through the hair thin opening. She looked at him, worried, then around him.

"He's alone," she said.

"Open." he heard Lilith reply.

Lisa disappeared behind the door and opened it wider, just enough for Dean to come in, then closed it immediately after.

Dean took in the situation. All curtains were drawn which made it a bit hard to see. It took a couple of seconds for his eyes to accommodate the semi-darkness. Thankfully Lisa still had not changed the two from the living room. She wanted thicker ones and not these thin white ones. In the middle, Lilith was standing up, behind a chair. The little table had been turned and laid on the side, next to the grey-ish couch.

Lisa was walking without any limp and she did not seem in pain or hurt. Also, no Ben, Dean noticed. Where the hell was this kid?

Lilith was holding a gun. A big one. Smith & Wesson possibly. She gestured with it.

"She wants me to check if you have any weapon," Lisa explained.

"She can check, no gun!" Dean said, opening his jacket and showing his empty holster.

"Like I'd trust a traitor!" Lilith shouted with a wicked smile. "Search him!"

Dean took a step back and widen his stance. He looked straight at Lilith and held his hand up. Lisa patted him down.

"Nothing," she said after a few seconds.

"Search the boots!" Lilith ordered.

Lisa put one knee on the floor and patted his right boot. Of course, she immediately felt the butterfly knife, which was not difficult to spot due to its size. She looked up at Dean who gave an imperceptible nod.

"There's something," Lisa announced. She drew the jeans up and took the knife out.

Lilith laughed and Dean had to resist the urge to catch the knife and throw it in her throat. "Of course you'd try something, Dean. Tsk tsk tsk." She shook her head. "Throw it in the kitchen." She ordered.

"Eh, it was worth trying," Dean said with a shrug. "No gun though."

Without standing up, Lisa tossed the knife on the kitchen floor, then examined the other boot. Dean felt the smaller knife get pressed against his leg, meaning Lisa must have felt it. However she did not flinch.

"Nothing," she said and raised back up.

Lilith gestured to the chair and Lisa walked up to her and sat down, her back facing Lilith. Lilith smiled at her, too wide and too toothy, too predatory.

"Why'd you kill Martin?" Dean asked all of a sudden.

"Deaaaan," Lilith began in a pained voice. "All business and no fun? Is this how it's going to be?" She made an exaggerated face. "You're breaking my heart."

"Cut the crap, Lilith. Why'd you do it?" Dean repeated, his voice steady despite his rage boiling in his insides.

"Why do you think, traitor?" Lilith shot back in a cutting tone. "That's all he deserved! When I realized he had been feeding information to the cops? Oooooh, I imagined all the ways I could make him pay." She sighed and shook her head, making her blond ponytail fly. "But he died on me before I could even go to the fun part. What a loser."

She looked up and pointed her weapon towards Dean. "But you! Oh, I have so many ideas. I hope you won't disappoint." She smiled again and Dean wanted to erase it off her face.

He snorted. "Yeah? Well, here I am. Let her go."

"Who, the whore?" Lilith laughed. "Keep dreaming, Dean. She's here and she's going to be the first to try my newest purchase!" She reached behind her back and drew a knife with a curved blade. "Gorgeous, isn't it?"

"She has nothing to do with this, let her go!" he insisted.

"Don't feel like it. And we got plenty of time!" she waved toward the window behind her on her right. "Turns out, I probably won't make it out of here alive. Thanks to your buddies. Oh, by the way, how is you shrink doing?" she asked with a sneer. "He needed some convincing when he understood I wanted your file."

Dean pushed away the memory of Castiel bleeding on the floor and forced a smile. "He's great." He nodded and gave her his best smirk. "Since you're a lousy shot, he's perfectly fine. And he—"

Before he could finish his sentence, a loud bang echoed in the house while some broken glass fell on the floor behind him, making him jump out of his skin and Lisa scream from fear.

Lilith raised one eyebrow. "I'm really not," she affirmed, her revolver hot from the shot. "He got lucky, that's all. But don't worry about it, others will take my place. And he'll meet his fate."

"Others?" Dean asked, his heart beating fast in his chest.

"What do you think? That all of us got caught? If one goes down, two shall rise!"

"So what, you're like a hydra or something?"

"Don't make it sound like you're clever, Dean. No one likes a pretty face who talks," she scoffed. "What I'm not clear about is how no one ever suspected you." She hummed. "Oh, maybe, that's because you were doing a hell of a job for us. Did you know that, whore?" she asked, hitting Lisa's scalp.

Lisa hissed and tried to lower her head only for Lilith to grab her head and turn her face up to her.

"Did you know all he did for us? How he got all the information out of these poor tortured souls?" she continued but kept her eyes straight on Dean.

"It's not a secret, really," Dean replied, trying his best to keep his composure and eye level with Lilith. However, he noticed Lisa's expression. Her gaze was kept on the window, unmoving, then shot back at Dean. "What's more surprising is that Alastair never mentioned you. Did you somehow fail him? Not good enough? Must hurt…" he rambled on. Something must be going on outside and Lisa detected it. Still, his little mockery managed to keep Lilith's attention focused on him. He saw her pretty face crumble, red spreading out on her cheeks.

"What do you even know about this!" she shouted at him. "I already knew everything! I was his trump card, I did not need his guidance anymore!" She breathed hard, her eyes narrowed and looking at Dean. She regained her composure with difficulty, it seemed Dean had hit a sore topic. "I've heard that you were quite the devotee, ready to please our master." She released her grip on Lisa who whimpered lowly.

Dean shook his head. "See this? This is why we got Crowley's down. You're over-confident."

"Dean-o, you didn't bring it down." She pointed the edge of the knife towards her. "Still alive and kicking!" she joked. "As for you," she aimed at Dean "and her, it's just a question of minutes."

"You do know that the house is surrounded, right?" he said, his head tilted in a provocative manner. "Basically, it's you who's got minutes. Seconds maybe."

She laughed. "Do you think I'm an amateur? They have no way to know what is going on here, if it's me standing or the whore!" She hesitated. "But, actually, you're right. Kneel. Hands in the air."

Dean cursed under his breath. Making her talk was one thing but really was time on their side? He had no idea what was going on outside, what Benny was going, and where Ben actually was. How much time already passed? It felt like three seconds and an hour at the same time. More realistically, it would be only five minutes. Ten at most. Not enough to plan anything.

He slowly knelt on the floor. He was just at the bottom of the stairs and in front of the door. If anyone came in guns blazing, he'd get a lost bullet for sure. Not that he really minded if that got Lisa free. He just wished he could apologize to Castiel properly.

All of a sudden, Lisa let out a long and loud sigh. "You know, Lilith, for someone who swore to gut me not ten minutes ago, you're all talk."

"Lisa!" Dean shouted at his ex-girlfriend. What the hell was she doing?!

"Oh, getting all high and mighty?" Lilith replied, yanking her head again.

Dean did not miss how Lisa's eyes searched the window, stayed focused about three seconds before meeting Lilith's gaze.

"My son is now under police protection," Lisa said, voice gurgling from the awkward angle of her throat. "And I know Dean made sure he'd be safe from you and the ones like you!"

"Yeah!" was all Dean could shout. Where the hell was Ben?!

"Oh I'll find your bastard and he'll meet you in Hell," Lilith replied. "And if you're that eager to try my new blade, so be it!" She let Lisa's hair go and rose her hand, holding firmly on the curved knife.

"STOP!" Dean yelled, making everyone hold their movement and breath. Both women turned their heads toward him. Now what? He just shouted to prevent Lilith from killing Lisa. But that wouldn't hold for long. "How…" he began, then licked his lips. "Lis! How the hell do you even know Lilith?" he asked. Anything was better than nothing.

"Really?" Lilith wondered.

"Saw her with Crowley once or twice. And with that weird guy with white hair."

"Don't disrespect!" Lilith yelled and hit her with the knife handle hard on her shoulder. Lisa let out a yelp but did not back off.

"Ben's father introduced me to her, long time ago, before she became an old hag," she continued.

Lilith rolled her eyes.

"I was not impressed," Lisa commented.

"Whatever, bitch. You done?" Again, Lilith rose her hand.

At that very second, all hell broke loose. Lisa shrieked and fell on the floor. Dean let his arms down and grabbed the knife hidden in his boot. Thanks to the kneeling, he managed to get it fast then jumped in Lilith's direction. He was not even back on his feet when gunshots were heard and the window shattered in thousands of shards, falling over the floor. Lilith screamed and fell on her knees.

Dean saw Lisa try to crawl in his direction while Lilith brought her armed hand up and aimed toward her. Above their heads, bullets went flying, destroying the flat screen TV, the wall literally spit shards, splinters and parget in all damn directions.

"Lisa! Run!" Dean heard himself shout. He was almost on Lilith. He heard the gunshot and saw Lilith's arm recoil due to the power of the weapon. Now was his chance! He had to hit before she could aim again. He launched himself on her and stabbed her. The blade was not long enough to kill but it surely would incapacitate her. He withdrew his arm and stabbed again, and again, and again. He could only focus on her frail body beneath him, his hand hitting hard and meeting mostly bones.

Suddenly, strong arms took hold of him and pulled him back. He did not hear anything apart from a high pitched noise in his ears. He could not even see clearly as everything but Lilith was blurry. Someone moved him away from her, forced him to look somewhere else.

He turned his head, his vision finally free of Lilith, and saw Lisa, her face white with fear, run to the stairs. He forced himself out of the restraining hands and followed her up to the bedrooms floor. She sprinted towards Ben's room and straight to the wardrobe. She threw the doors open, fell on her knees and crawled under the hanging clothes. Dean tailed her and walked on his knees until he saw her open a section of the wall and Ben leave his hideout. Lisa took her son in her arms and held him tight against her.

Dean's vision gradually came back to normal, the piercing sound slowly replaced by Lisa and Ben's cries. He sighed and fell on his ass. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he repeated over and over until the same strong arms helped him up. Benny, of fucking course. When he was up, Benny helped Lisa and Ben and all of them walked back down and out of the house, not giving a glance to see Lilith.

An ambulance was waiting for them and three medics rushed toward them. Dean brushed his off but the guy insisted to check his vitals. After a few seconds, it was clear Dean was perfectly fine. He walked over to Lisa and Ben who were sitting inside the ambulance, side by side, Lisa holding Ben firmly against her.

"I'm sorry. Lisa, Ben. I really am sorry," he apologized, not knowing what else to say.

"I heard you the first hundred times," Lisa replied in a weak voice.

"What happened?" he asked.

"We just got back from getting ice cream when Lilith knocked," Lisa explained. "I recognized her, despite the uniform. Tried to hold her off while Ben ran."

"When did you even build this panic room?"

"Was always there, you just never saw it."

"It was in case Crowley got to us," Ben said in a little voice. "I open the window and I hide in there."

"Aren't you two the cleverest," Dean said, amazed, a bright smile on his face, before being serious again. "I don't know how to make this up to you. If there is anything…"

"Witness protection," Lisa declared.

Dean was a little taken aback but he nodded. Of course. It made perfect sense.

"I thought all of them were gone," she continued. "I was really hoping. But I don't want to look behind my back every time we go shopping." She looked at her son and kissed him on his forehead. "You're still okay with this?" she asked him in a low and gentle voice.

Ben hummed, then nodded slowly.

"You're very brave," she told him before looking up to Dean. "If you want to do something, make sure there aren't any more scums around."

"Yes! I promise! I swear! You'll be safe!" Dean assured.

"Thanks…" she whispered.

Dean took this as his cue to leave. "I'll get Benny, he'll talk to you about the witness protection and all."

She gave him a sad smile. "Thanks Dean. And. Thank you for saving us."

He wanted to object, tell her how it was all his fault they got into this mess. But then, he realized it would probably be one of the last time he ever saw her and Ben. He smiled back. "Thank you. For everything."

He left and walked over to Benny who was giving orders to some uniformed guys. A white sheet was covering Lilith's body. Apparently, he managed to kill her. Or was it the gun shots? Or Benny while he was gone? He did not care.

"Benny?" he asked. "Lisa would like to talk to you."

His friend nodded. "Sure, brother. I'll be there in a minute." He turned and resumed his orders.

However Dean did not move. He did not want to. He felt drained, exhausted, sad and angry. When Benny noticed Dean was still standing there, he shook his head. "Look Dean, there's a lot to do here and you're kinda in the way. There's nothing more you can do here. So you need to go home, write a report if you can't sleep and I'll see you tomorrow."

Dean hummed. "Right."

"Go wait in the Impala, I'll call Bobby or Victor to come pick you up."

Dean shook his head. "No, I'm fine."

"Sure you are. Just, hang on a minute, brother," Benny said before turning around and asking for the uniform to wait a second.

However, Dean was not in the mood to wait for an hour for someone to come pick him up. No even in the mood to talk or do anything. He wanted to be left alone with his thoughts. He felt he was walking a thin line between acting normal and going batshit crazy. He had to deal with it the only way he knew how. And when he'll get home, he'll drink all the liquid courage he'll find!

"Dean!" he heard Benny call behind him. "You're not leaving alone!"

"The hell I am," Dean muttered under his breath. He hurried up and jumped in the Impala which he left unlocked. He started the engine and before putting on his seatbelt, he drove away, in front of a Benny who was shaking his head with an irritated expression on his face.


	9. Chapter 9

The ride back to Chicago passed in a blur. Dean could not think properly, always replaying bits and pieces and what happened in his mind, between Castiel hurt on the floor, Lisa and Ben clutching at each other, Lisa hostage, the white sheet over Lilith's body, Castiel ordering him to go. He felt drained and knew that the moment the tension would wear off, he'd fall on the floor and sleep right here. Which is why he did not gave in. And what is better to keep him on his feet than bottled guilt?

He remembered to call 911 again to know where Castiel had been brought in. After a bit of convincing and his police ID number, he got the name of the hospital. He did not waste a second and drove straight there, only to be shooed out of the building by the medical staff and two guards. Apparently, even if Castiel was his boyfriend and he was a cop, he would have to wait for the visits opening hour, the next day starting 8am. A nurse assured him Castiel was fine, which was a relief, though he needed to see him, to make sure by himself that Castiel was alright.

A little defeated, he went back home and since his day could actually get worse, his whole place had been ransacked. Either Lilith paid him a visit before going to Castiel's office or some guys thought it was a good idea to rob a cop.

He walked in his apartment and tried to close his front door, which he could not! _Of fucking course!_ The lock had been forced, so at best the door was somewhat shut if no one gave a second look. All his stuff was shattered on the floor, the couch knocked over, and papers everywhere. He wondered where they all even came from, not remembering he had that many papers! Even the kitchen was a mess. The fridge was left opened! That was the last straw! He closed the fridge, avoided as much as he could and went to his bedroom only to see it was the same mess. He put the mattress, devoid of sheets, back on the bed frame and looked at it.

He sighed and turned around in one swift movement. When he spotted the wall, he could not stop himself. All his anger, his frustration and bottled guilt somehow found their way out. He hit the wall with all his strength. Thankfully for him, it was only plywood and his fist ran right through the wall. He shouted as loud as he could and fell on his bed. He felt miserable. He was miserable.

It took him almost thirty minutes before he could move and sit up. He took his phone out of his pocket and called 911, again. He reported the break-in and when the operator asked if the agents could come right now, he agreed. He wanted to be left alone but knew better.

It took another half hour for them to come up and detail the break-in in their report. They hurried up when Dean informed them he was a detective, then informed him the scientific unit would call him tomorrow as they needed to pull off prints. They left him shortly after and Dean thanked them.

He went back to his bedroom, stripped down to only his boxers, pulled some sheets from the floor and rolled himself in before falling on his mattress. He set his alarm for 6am and tried hard not to notice it was way over 2am already. Before his head could hit what was left of his pillow, he fell asleep.

When his alarm rang, he swore he had just closed his eyes. It took him a whole minute to realize the events from the day before were real and not some fucked up dream. He finally stood up and when he noticed the hole in the wall, he grunted. He had some serious problems. But first, he wanted to see Castiel.

He took a quick shower, put on clean clothes and drove to the hospital. It was only 7:30am but the nurse, who recognized him, let him in and gave him Castiel's room number. After walking in a maze of corridors and hallways, he reached the room.

He stood in front of the closed door for several seconds, having second thoughts about his presence. He did not even get him anything! He turned heels and found his way out. He couldn't do this. Not like this. Just as he was about to leave the hospital, a heavy iron roller door got lifted and an elderly woman walked out of what seemed to be a flowers and "get well" gift shop. She raised a curious glance at him.

"Sorry, lad," she said in a thick British accent "have you been waiting long?"

"No, I just—"

"Good! We're opened now! Come on, have a look!" she encouraged him.

Despite his earlier resolve to flee, he had to admit that seeing Castiel with a gift in hand would be a good idea. He took a quick look around and ended with a nice flower arrangement of different kinds and the very usual teddy bear holding a heart that said "Get well soon". He rapidly paid and with a smile, left the shop and hurried back to Castiel's room. He inhaled deeply and knocked thrice.

"Come in," came Castiel's voice after a few seconds.

Dean opened the door and slowly walked in. He did not really know what to expect, but it was certainly not this: Castiel looking at him with a beam as bright as the sun when he recognized him.

"Hello Dean," he greeted him. "I'm happy to see you. How are you doing?" he asked.

Dean stood right at the entrance, stunned by this question.

Maybe he was exhausted, maybe he hit his head hard, maybe it was the tension that managed to get out of this system, maybe it's all this. He actually found Castiel's question hilarious. Hysterical even! He started laughing so hard he doubled-over and felt tears pearling at the corner of his eyes.

It took him a whole minute before he could calm down and face Castiel.

He shook his head. "Dude, you're asking me? It's you in a hospital bed," he said while closing the distance with Castiel who looked at him with a bit of concern.

The man was lying on the small hospital bed, his back against a big pillow and the bed's backrest in sitting position. His right hand was resting on his stomach while his left arm was restrained in a sling against his lower-torso.

"I'm fine." Castiel just said. But Dean noticed the dark circles under his drooping eyes, his flat hair, some strands glued to his forehead.

"How did you sleep?" Dean asked.

Castiel licked his lips and answered in a low voice. "The pain kept me awake for the most part. But it'll reduce soon."

Dean nodded. He gave Castiel a shy smile and showed the gifts. "These are for you. I hope you're not allergic to flowers."

"I'm not."

"Good! And teddy bears?"

"Neither teddy bears." Castiel replied with a smile.

"Perfect!" He laid the gifts on the nightstand next the bed then glanced at Castiel. "I could get some clothes from your house if you want. Cause you'll have to cover yourself when you leave. When are you good to go?"

Castiel hummed. "Thank you Dean, but Meg will take care of it. She'll come today and bring me my clothes."

"Oh, Meg. Right. Sure. That's cool!"

"Dean…" Castiel in a warning tone, however his face only showed playfulness. "You're not jealous, are you?"

"Who! Me? Nah! I'm not the jealous type! Pfff, totally not!"

He turned and grabbed a chair that was sitting in the corner and pulled it next to the bed. He sat down and glanced at Castiel for a while. Castiel that kept on smiling at him, despite being tired and hurting.

"How are Lisa and Ben?" Castiel finally asked.

"Good now. Thanks to you I managed to call for backup and reach them in time. More or less." Dean said. "Lilith took them as hostages but they're safe now," he quickly added when Castiel opened his mouth in concern. "Lilith is dead," he finished.

"Lilith is the blonde woman?"

Dean nodded. "Yes. She was working in the same precinct as me. She was a cop and one of Crowley's. Never saw that coming," he said with a face.

Castiel hummed. "I'm glad everybody is alright now."

Dean could not stop himself from rolling his eyes. "Dude, you're not alright. Because of me, you have a hole in your chest. Because I'm a lousy detective who couldn't identify Lilith before, you're laying down here. So no, not everybody is alright."

Castiel took a deep inhale and raised his eyebrows. "This is not on you. You are not the only high profile customer. I thought I was prepared for this eventuality. Clearly I wasn't." He sighed. "Meg ordered me to learn self-defense. Apparently fencing does not count."

"She's right, you know," Dean said.

"Besides, I was lucky. I ducked at the right time, in the right direction. Lilith missed all my organs," he explained. "I just need to keep the wound clean and I'll be alright. See? Everybody is alright now."

Dean shook his head. "Stubborn as hell, aren't ya?!" He sighed. "Still, that's on me. And I don't know how I possibly can apologize and make it up to you. Thanks to you Lisa and Ben are safe."

Castiel tilted his head slightly. "I thought you were the one who rushed to save them?"

"Nah… It's… you know what? Let's not talk about this now. You're tired, I can see that. You should sleep some more," Dean decided and began to stand up, only stopped when Castiel raised his valid hand.

"Dean. Please. Stay some more. It's nice to have you here." His tone was a little pleading and his face only showed concern, which Dean hated. He wanted that wonderful smile back. Even better if it was directed at him. Dean felt his heart beat louder in his chest.

"Sure Cas! Whatever you want." He sat back down and returned Castiel's smile. He immediately felt better. Castiel too, he could tell.

Dean didn't know for how long they stayed like this, just smiling, sometimes talking about the weather outside, that winter might come early this year, but most of the times just keeping quiet and looking at each other.

A loud throat clearing made them jump and Castiel hissed. Sudden movement was not a good idea just yet.

"Are you here to finish him off?" Meg shot at Dean in an icy voice while walking in the room, her arms heavy with different bags.

"Meg!" Both men said at the same time but in totally different tone.

"Yes, Meg. How are you Clarence? Want me to kick his ass until he begs?"

Dean turned to Castiel who smiled at her in an endearing way. "That won't be necessary. Thank you."

"Whatever." She shrugged and put all bags down. "Got you some loose clothes. These will be easier for you to wear because of the sling. And some decent shower gel and shampoo cause usually the stuff in hospitals is crap." She took a quick look around and went to grab the jug. "I'll get you fresh water," she said and shot a pointed look at Dean.

"Clarence?" Dean asked as soon as she was out.

"It's a long story."

Dean took his cue. He stood up and walked up to Castiel. "I'll leave you two alone. Bet she has some nice bitching to do about me."

"That won't prevent her from doing so even in your presence," Castiel clarified.

"I bet!" He smiled. He hesitated for a second, then brushed the strands of hair off Castiel's forehead. "Here you go, much better."

Once again, he did not know what took over him. He leaned and gently placed his forehead against Castiel's. "I'm sorry Cas," he whispered "but I'll make it up to you." He felt heat creep up his cheeks and quickly withdrew. "I'll come back later," he announced and left the room, leaving a surprised Castiel behind.

On his way out, he asked when the visiting hours ended. He had until 8pm to visit Castiel again. That would do. Then, he drove to the precinct where he could file his report.

(***)

"And then, you decide that it's completely alright to barge in? In a hostage situation!" Captain Singer yelled again, making Dean's ear burn.

"But I couldn't—"

"A. Hostage. Situation!" Bobby repeated while Benny flinched next to him. Dean was sure that by now, all the precinct and possibly all Chicago heard what happened. "Did you wait for back-up? Nooooo. Did you call your freaking superior? Me? Nooooo! Did you call to try to defuse the situation? No!"

There was a fleeting moment where Dean thought all the fighting spirit left Bobby.

"Balls!" Captain Singer shouted.

Clearly, Dean was wrong.

"She'd have cut Lisa in half if I had waited a minute longer." Dean hurried to explain. "That's what Alastair always said. No chance of getting out? Take your time. If the victim is not secured, make sure it'll remember you," he said. "I couldn't wait. Plus Lilith wanted me, I had to get Lisa and Ben out. They had nothing to do with this!"

He immediately noticed a change on Benny's face. Bobby kept quiet, which added to the suspicions.

"What?"

Benny gave a look at Captain Singer who nodded. "Lisa was actually pretty involved," Benny finally said.

"What does that mean?" Dean asked, turning to face his friend.

"After you left, I talked to her about the witness protection. I explained that it's not something that everybody could benefit from, even after events as horrible as what happened. When I told her that only key witnesses could get protection and that I'd do my best to get them in the system, she literally asked me what I needed."

Dean frowned while Bobby and Benny looked at each other.

"She knows a lot, Dean. Really, a lot."

"How is that possible?"

"She said she was a good listener and some mob's wives and widows attended her yoga class. Some of them needed to spill their guts. Since she did not know you were a cop, that Crowley and the police left her alone, she thought she was safe. Also she wanted to have some leverage 'just in case', so she kept it all for herself." Benny tilted his head, eyebrow raised and impressed look on his face. "And she knows a lot, brother. She'll be a great help. Not only in Crowley's case, but also in another big one."

The more Dean listened, the more dumbstruck he felt. He was so sure Lisa were out of this. And yet…

"What big one?" Dean asked.

"Devereaux's case against Richard 'Dick' Roman," Bobby said.

"Are you freaking kidding me?" Dean let out.

"Turns out Crowley might have been in contact with Dick Roman," his chief explained.

"That means Lisa and Ben are high profile witnesses. Due to my involvement with the other witness in my charge, I won't be their handler. But don't worry, brother," Benny immediately added before Dean could protest. "They will be in good hands."

Dean nodded. He had to trust Benny on this. "Will you be seeing them again?"

"Yes, this evening."

"Can you tell them…" he began but stopped. What could he possibly say to Lisa and Ben. "Just tell them…" he tried again. "Say hi for me…" he finished in a lower voice.

Benny gave him his patented sad smile. "Will do, brother. Will do."

"Don't you think you're out of the woods just yet!" Bobby retorted. "What you did was reckless, stupid, and endangered not only you but Lisa and Ben!"

Dean lowered his gaze. "I couldn't just stand by, Bobby," he muttered. "It would have been a lot worse."

He heard his Captain sigh long and loud. "I bet your ass I'll get an inspection before the end of the week."

"Sorry."

"Yeah, you better be!" Bobby shouted again before calming down and rolling his eyes. "I want your report on my desk in the next hour."

"You got it!" Dean replied.

Bobby shot him a glance then shooed him out of his office. "Call Devereaux!"

As soon as he stepped out, Dean noticed all eyes were on him. "Of fucking course," he muttered. "Hey guys!" he greeted the whole bunch who immediately turned to face their computer screens. He shook his head and told Frank Devereaux to go to Captain Singer's office.

He sat at his desk and Victor looked at him with a sympathetic expression on his face.

"He doesn't shout like that usually," he told him.

Dean sighed. "Yeah well, seems I have this effect on people."

Victor had arrived at the precinct a few minutes after Dean and they had shared information. As it turned out, Victor never slept with Lilith. "I dodged a bullet there!" he had said, then realized his poor choice of words and apologized. Dean had also assured Victor he'd be right back on the Bela Talbot case as soon as this hell case finally closes. "All I'm asking is that we catch her before she buys her own island and retires there!" Victor had joked.

Soon after Sergeant Mills walked up to him. She gave him a pat on the shoulder and whispered "Nice work with Crowley. You did well, kid." He thanked her, not sure about what just happened. Strangely enough, Donna and a few others did the same during the next few minutes.

The scientific team called him shortly after and he had to rush to his apartment where he stayed two whole hours, watching three guys scrap here, dust there and put lots of Q-tips in plastic tubes and these tubes in boxes.

Then, he drove back to the precinct to finish his report. It was long and painful, but work nonetheless, which meant he didn't have to deal with regrets and remorse. He gave his report to Captain Singer who told him in a gentle tone he could take a day off or two.

"Nah, I'm good, thanks Boss."

"Even to help Novak settle back in? Pretty sure he'd need some help."

"How did…? Benny! That damn Cajun!" Dean growled.

"How is he?" Bobby asked.

"Benny? Dead if I lay my hand on him! Castiel is… he's alright. The bullet didn't hit anything vital. He got lucky."

"Good. Now off you go!"

Throughout the day, Dean kept receiving information and news. Lilith's mobile phone had been retrieved and currently being processed. Her apartment and personal car were searched. Her desk in the precinct cleaned. The fact that a police officer was involved with Crowley's caused a lot of emotion. Some were disbelieving, others assured there were others, while a few, mostly the eldest, grumbled that the Internal Affairs would be on their ass for weeks.

Dean tried to make himself invisible. Which, obviously, failed. It appeared that his cover and story blew up and everybody knew he was undercover. He hated all that attention and if once he would have glowed and appreciate to be in the spotlight, now he just couldn't. His mind kept wandering back to Lisa and Castiel who was laying in that damn hospital bed.

Apparently the only people that found it funny were Garth and Ash. Ash kept sending emails to Dean about the gossips he just heard, while Garth sent him memes. Freaking. Honest to god. Memes! Which were usually silly pictures over the theme "Where is Dean? Undercover!" True, he had to admit, one or two made him laugh. He really should get these guys a homemade pie.

When 5pm rang, he left and walked straight to the little coffee shop where he bought sweets, coffees and teas, then drove to the hospital.

When he entered the room, Castiel was watching TV and Meg was sitting on the chair, her feet on the bed, reading a magazine. She looked up and smirked. "Seems Inspector Clouseau is here to keep you company," she said and slowly put her feet down. "Time for me to go." She stood up, grabbed her purse and walked up to Castiel. "Take care Clarence. I'll be back tomorrow," she told him in a gentle voice before kissing his forehead.

"Thank you Meg. But you don't have to," Castiel replied with a smile.

"I know." She returned his smile then turned to leave. "Got my eyes on you, Losechester." She shot at Dean as she walked past him.

Dean watched her leave then walked up Castiel's bed. "One day you'll have to tell me this Clarence-thing," he said before lifting the bag from the shop. "Also, brought you tea, coffee, donuts and stuff."

Castiel's smile grew wider. "Thank you Dean. The food here, despite being really acceptable, is not really satisfying," he said. "I'll have the tea and donut please."

Dean handed him a chocolate glazed donut and put the tea on the tablet next to him.

"How was your day, Cas? Met any hot nurses?" Dean joked and sat down on the chair. "Or hot surgeons? Was your surgeon sexy? Like Doctor Sexy?"

Castiel laughed. "Do you want to put on a nurse gown? That way I can answer positively?"

Dean barked a laugh and jokingly tapped Castiel's leg. "You sneaky bastard. Ask me again when you're back on your feet and no arm in a sling."

Castiel tilted his head. "You didn't say 'no'," he said.

"I haven't said 'no'," Dean confirmed and looked away shyly. He felt his cheeks heat up slightly and forced a change of topic, not ready to have sexy talk with Cas just yet. "Come on, eat up!" he said and gestured to the food.

Castiel took a bite of his donut and hummed in appreciation. "It's good," he managed to say, his mouth full, making Dean bark another laugh.

"Glad you like it," Dean replied. "Did you see the Doc today?" When Castiel nodded, Dean continued. "How are you healing?" Castiel hurried to chew. "Hey, take your time buddy. We're not in a rush." Dean assured him.

Castiel swallowed and took a sip of the tea. "Good. It's been less than a day but it looks good," he said. "No signs of infections which is apparently common in gunshot wounds. The bullet missed any important organ or artery, so I'm really lucky. He said I need to clean it and soon I'll be able to use my arm again."

"Good. That's… good." Dean said while Castiel seemed interested by Dean's paper bag. Dean instantly took another sweet out of the bag and handed it to Castiel who took a hungry bite. "Do you know when you'll be allowed to leave?"

Castiel shook his head, sending a few crumbs of cookie down his gown, which Dean cleaned as soon as he noticed.

"Alright. Maybe tomorrow you'll know. How did you spend your day? Did you try to sleep?"

Castiel nodded, took another sip of his tea and hummed in a satisfied way. "Meg stayed with me all day. We played cards, though she hates playing against me."

"Why is that?"

Castiel half-smiled. "She's a sore loser," he whispered.

"You don't say!" Dean exclaimed with a laugh.

"I slept a lot too. When the nurse realized I was in pain, she increased the dose," he said, showing the catheter with his valid hand. "But tomorrow she'll lower it."

"And now…?"

"Now, I'm fine. Don't feel anything really. Just a sort of twinge? It's more annoying than anything. But if I move the arm…" he slightly moved his left arm and hissed instantly.

"Don't move!" Dean said loudly, almost sitting up. "Dude, the hell?!"

Castiel rolled his eyes. "I was just showing you. It's alright."

"Yeah?! Well telling would have been enough! Don't move, capisce?!"

"Yes, I capisce," Castiel replied with a sigh.

Dean relaxed a bit against his chair's backrest. "Geez, Cas!"

"I'm alright, Dean."

"Yeah… I can see that." Dean muttered. "What were you watching by the way? Am I interrupting?"

"Not at all. It's always a pleasure to see you, Dean," Castiel replied. "It was just an animal—" He interrupted himself and squinted at Dean. "Are you blushing?"

"Am not!" Dean affirmed, though he had to admit it was suddenly too hot in this room. "Is just…" he continued, pushed by the scrutiny of Castiel's gaze. "Is just sometimes you say the sappiest stuff ever. Like, honey dripping sweet!" he explained and shrugged.

"Dean…"

"Nope! Let's just watch that animal whatever's on TV. Okay?"

"Sure. It's about the hyena society. Did you know that it's a matriarchy?"

"Like the elephants?" Dean asked.

"Yes, except the male hyenas are at the bottom of the pyramid. It's interesting."

"Let's watch."

Castiel took hold of the remote and increased the volume slightly while Dean sat more comfortably in the chair.

They spent several hours watching TV and making comments. Dean kept company to Castiel when his dinner got brought in and made a face when he saw the soup and dried bread.

"Thank god I brought the sweets, eh!" Dean whispered once the nurse left.

"Understatement!" Castiel confirmed and ate his small dinner.

Thirty minutes later, the same nurse came back to take the plates away and tell Dean the visiting hours were over. He stood up soon after and told Castiel he'd be back the next morning for breakfast. Like in the morning, he brushed Castiel's hair from his forehead, then hesitated slightly before tousling his hair with his hand. "See ya, Cas," he whispered.

Once he reached his apartment, he sighed, looked at the mess and started to pick up things from the floor and put them on the couch. He also needed to call his insurance to see the damage coverage. He really hated all that paperwork.

(***)

When Meg entered Castiel's room the next morning, Dean and Castiel were having an argument about pancakes.

"Ah, Meg! Would you be so kind to tell Dean that pancakes are to be eaten with honey?" Castiel asked her as soon as he noticed her.

"Dude, that's so wrong! Maple syrup. Maple. Syrup. Nothing else," Dean insisted.

She looked at them in her typical unimpressed look. "You're arguing about pancakes?"

"Yes." Castiel confirmed.

"At eight in the morning?"

"Yes."

"While holding hands?"

Castiel immediately turned his head to Dean who did the same. Dean had come at 7:30am and took a seat next to Castiel's valid side. He did not remember how or why it happened but during the few minutes he'd been here he had put his hand on Castiel's. And now their fingers were intertwined. And he really did not want to let go.

"So what?" he shot back at her, defensively.

"So are you two a thing? Officially?"

Dean looked back at Castiel who had not turned his gaze. Dean really wanted to do this. He wanted this like he wanted pie… or bacon burger… Cas was his little moment of happiness that he craved during the day.

He read something in Castiel's eyes. Was it hope? Or hesitation? Hope, he decided. Definitively hope. Dean then turned his gaze to Meg. "Yes. Yes, we are," he said in a sure tone. Immediately, Castiel beamed at him and looked at his friend. "We are," Castiel repeated. "We are a thing."

Meg kept silent for a couple of seconds then her expression softened when she looked at Castiel. "Good for you Clarence." But soon turned to Dean and her face only showed attitude. "Since we already established you're a dick, did you just find your balls or was it wishful thinking?"

"Jesus!" Dean exclaimed and rolled his eyes. "Will you ever give me a break?" His patience was growing thin, despite Castiel's thumb gently caressing his to sooth him.

"Give me a reason to," she replied with a smirk and immediately ignored Dean. "By the way, Jo and Ellen will come by to see how you're doing."

"That is really nice of them," Castiel said and tighten his grip on Dean's hand. "It's nice of all of you to come, but you don't have to," he insisted.

"Don't worry, Clarence," Meg replied before Dean could open his mouth. "I'm still charging you over-time," she said with a smirk that fooled no one, not even Dean. She looked around and saw no chair available. And because Dean was a stubborn asshole, he preferred to remain seated, hand locked with Castiel's, rather than helping her. "Scoot over," she finally asked Castiel who moved his legs slightly away, allowing her to seat on the edge of the bed and turned to face them.

"How did you sleep?" she asked.

"Better. Much better. But the pain medication will be reduced today to avoid addiction."

She nodded. "Just in case, I brought something," she said. "I have this friend who gave me some herbs that will sooth the pain. She said it tastes like ass but your shoulder will feel better within ten minutes."

"Pamela?" Castiel asked.

"Yes, Pam," Meg nodded. "It's nothing illegal, don't worry about it. Just some herbs and leaves that have this effect when brewed together. Also, she warned it might get you drowsy."

"I don't mind."

"Of course you don't. I've seen your face in the morning!"

Castiel let out a low chuckle.

Dean listened carefully. He had to admit he was slightly amazed by the way Meg cared about Castiel. He understood how Castiel loved her, but seeing someone as cold and harsh as her help Castiel was heartwarming. Absentmindedly, he brushed his thumb over his lover's. It was nice. It really was. Just the three of them in a room, chatting. He could feel how everyone here wanted Castiel to get better and help him get through it. Though he sensed his pity-party ready to launch any second, he enjoyed this. And if Meg wanted to treat him as a punching bag, so be it. He deserved it! And clearly worse… no!

He forced himself to stop his trail of thoughts and focus on Castiel and Meg. He then pushed a happy idea in his mind. The first time he'll be able to kiss Cas, the first time they'll end up in a bed together, who would be big spoon, when he'll kiss Cas… oh, already got that thought! Never mind! How their kiss will be like: tender or passionate? Castiel's lips always looked chapped but did not seem to be? Maybe he could talk to him about the wonders of chapstick.

He also had to admit he wanted Castiel to meet his family. And he was sure he'd go along great with Sam, they were both brainiacs. But first he would have to call Sam and tell him he was dating Castiel. Maybe also tell him he sent his boyfriend in the hospital. Maybe tell the story about the shitstorm with Lilith. Bobby had ordered for police cars to patrol his parent's house and Sam's building and have two agents stationed 24/7 until further notice. After all, who knew what Lilith communicated and to whom? So far, the reports were reassuring. Nothing suspicious, nothing at all actually.

 _Yeah, I really should talk to Sam_ , Dean concluded. _But not now. Enjoy Cas for a little longer_ , he thought. _It's alright, there's no rush. Victor will be at the precinct soon, they don't need you just yet._

Dean left Castiel almost an hour later in Meg's good hands and promised to come later with more desserts and tea.

When he entered the precinct, he immediately noticed something was wrong. Jody was sitting on Donna's desk and talking to her in a low voice while Donna only nodded and looked down. Victor eyed him, face stern. He walked to his desk and sat down. "What happened?" he asked.

"Ruby was somehow involved with Lilith," he announced.

"What? Shit! Another cop under Crowley's paycheck?"

Victor shook his head. "We're not sure yet, but there were some kind of transactions between them. She's been arrested half an hour ago. Captain Singer is with the Internal Affairs for the past hour and there's literally a screaming contest going on." He sighed. "That shit with Lilith really got bad."

There wasn't much Dean could do but wait. His reports were sent and he was kept informed on a regular basis. So he worked with Victor on Bela Talbot's case. He was still on a lockdown from Bobby but he knew it was just a matter of days before it was lifted.

Around noon, Captain Singer and two strict looking men walked out of the office and left the precinct.

At two, Donna seemed to be back to her cheerful self and shortly after, Dean received the news. Ruby was not part of Crowley's. However she admitted to being a drug-addict and Lilith served as her dealer from time to time. Which explained why all the precinct received an email from Donna a couple of minutes later. She had opened a fundraiser for Ruby's rehab center enrollment.

Of course, Ruby would be fired without benefits and Donna explained she did not want to leave a friend and excellent colleague in this mess. The reactions varied for one person to the other, which came as no surprise. Some shook their heads, a few "hell no!" were heard to which "fuck yes I'm helping!" were answered. Dean did not need to think twice. He donated a large amount of money. More than he should for his own finances, but if that could help Ruby and Donna be like that Gabriel guy to Sam when he was an addict, there was no questioning. Though a part of his left brain started to review all his expenses and decided to cut on the beer. Maybe. He'll see when he gets there.

Around the end of the day, other news came in. Lilith was renting several storage units under false identities. It turned out one was some sort of archives of Crowley's contracts. Same going back ten years. One of them was under the name of Abby Talbot, possibly the very same British girl that disappeared so many years ago and who was suspected to be Bela.

Victor told Dean to calm down. It was their biggest lead so far but Dean should not get excited about something that might turn out to be pure coincidence. Of course, that meant Crowley's tentacles were spread much further than expected, but it also meant bringing down more corrupt people. With a little push, the whole empire would crumble down.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Victor asked Dean, getting really tired.

"Oh yeah, I'm going to see Cas tonight."

"Yeah? Then you better go now! Really Dean, I swear, if I hear you one more time say that we're that close of catching Bela, I'll punch you so hard you'll be flying to Cas!" Victor said in a loud voice.

Dean shook his head in a false disappointment. "Alright. Alright! Jeez! Show some enthusiasm some time, will you?"

But he did not wait any longer. He ran to the coffee shop and bought two chocolate desserts, which seemed to be favored by Castiel, and two croissants. Since it was just the end of the afternoon, he also bought a small pizza and a ham sandwich. No doubt they'd taste better than the soup and dry bread. He did not forget the tea and coffee but he was not yet sure which Castiel preferred.

He drove to the hospital and walked in the busy corridors. When he reached Castiel's room, the door was closed and Meg was waiting in front, back to the wall.

"Something happened?" Dean asked immediately. "Is Cas alright?"

Meg rolled her eyes and opened her mouth, probably for a witty comment, before deciding otherwise. She sighed and looked at Dean. "He's fine. The intern is checking on his wound. Apparently, they keep him in observation another 24 hours and release him."

"That's awesome! I bet he can't wait to go back home."

Meg shrugged. "Not really. There's nothing there he particularly enjoys." She side-eyed him. "Maybe he'll change his mind."

"Huh." He raised an eyebrow but did not comment. He leaned on the wall next to her and stared at Castiel's door. "By the way, how is he going home tomorrow?"

"Taxi, probably."

"I'll take him home," Dean decided.

"We don't know when he'll be released yet."

He shrugged. "I'll wait. I can wait the whole day."

"Why don't you use your brain cells and think?" she said in a low voice. "Just give me your number. I'll ring you when he's ready," she sighed.

"Right. Right! That'll work!" He waited for Meg to take her phone out and save his number.

"What you got there?" she asked and gestured to the paper bag.

"Some food for Cas. Want some?"

She shook her head. "Ellen and Jo came by and brought hamburgers for everyone."

"Oh."

"Don't worry," she added with a smile. "He'll still be glad. You got some chocolates?"

"Desserts with chocolate, yes."

"Good. He likes that. Peanut butter and jelly, that's what he likes best."

"Wow. Thanks Meg. Anything else I should know he likes?"

She hummed for two whole seconds. "You already know his love for meat and burgers," she finally said. "Try cook him some broccoli. It'll be fun."

"Broccoli?" Dean repeated, unimpressed.

"Just try," she said again and winked.

Dean chuckled. The door of Castiel's room slowly opened and a young doctor, possibly an intern, walked out. He greeted Dean and left. Both Meg and Dean took their cue to enter the room. Castiel was lying on his bed while a nurse checked his IV.

"Hey buddy, how are you doing today?" Dean asked with a smile.

"Hum. Good," Castiel replied, his eyes flicking from Meg to Dean.

"Meg told me the good news! You can go home tomorrow? That's great!"

"Yes. Yes it is," Castiel said, however he seemed a little taken aback.

Meg chuckled. "Don't worry Clarence. I didn't give him 'the speech'."

"Oh!" Castiel smiled.

Dean barely contained a loud exhale. "Please spare that," he growled. "Anyway, I'll give you a ride back to your place and help you settle," he continued with his regular voice.

"You don't have to," Castiel said. "I can book a taxi."

"I want to! If… that's alright with you."

"I'd like that," Castiel replied with a wide smile.

"Alright, let's do this!" Dean exclaimed.

"Please lower your voice," the nurse chastised him while turning around. "Other patients are resting."

"Sorry," Dean whispered with a face. "Just got excited is all."

The nurse gave him a stern look then faced Castiel. "Doctor Smith will see you tomorrow morning. And once he signs the papers, you're good to go."

Castiel nodded. "Thank you."

She fluffed his pillow then left the room.

"Guess what I brought!" Dean said while showing the brown paper bag.

Castiel smiled wider. "I'm so full. But… is there a chocolate donut?"

"Nope, they were out. But I got you a slice of Black forest. You like?"

"Yes, a lot!"

Within a few seconds, Meg and Dean were sitting on each side of Castiel's bed and were watching him devour the cake. They told Dean about Ellen and Jo's visit, how they brought a huge hamburger for Castiel and Meg and fed them tons of fries. Apparently, Meg had asked to bring some beer but Ellen drew the line, explaining the medicines didn't mix well with alcohol.

"Did your parents visit you?" Dean asked.

Immediately, he regretted his question when he noticed Castiel's dark expression.

"I haven't told them," Castiel answered simply. "Anna neither. She's in Paris, there isn't much she could do anyway."

Dean gave him a sympathetic pat on his forearm and leaned a bit closer to Castiel. "I haven't told Sammy either. I'd never hear the end of it otherwise." He forced a laugh and, of course, Castiel caught on. He smiled but the awkward moment had settled.

Dean leaned back against his chair and looked at Castiel while Meg seemed it was the time to read some magazine. After a few seconds, Castiel lifted his right hand, palm up. "May I?" he asked.

"Sure!" Dean replied and stood straight again before slipping his hand in Castiel's. However, his friend's expression made him frown. "What?"

Castiel observed their hands for a second longer, then gripped Dean's. He chuckled and slowly brought their joined hands to his mouth. He kissed Dean's knuckles and smiled at him. "I was actually asking for another pastry," Castiel admitted. "But this is nice." He let his arm go back to rest against the bed, not letting Dean's hand go.

"Oh. Oh! Shit, sorry Cas," Dean mumbled. He felt heat spread fast on his face up to his ear's tip. "Wait, I'll catch you something."

"No, please," Castiel said. "This is better."

"Aaaawww…" Meg mocked. "You are so sweet, my diabetes is going through the roof!"

However, with all the sneering, snarky comments and obvious mistrust in Dean (who could blame her?), he detected the kind eyes, the little smile and the relaxed position. She was actually supportive, he understood. Who would have thought?

Meg left about ten minutes later so she could catch the last bus home. Dean stayed with Castiel during his dinner and when the nurse took the tray away, he gave Castiel the ham sandwich and left the pizza slice for the next day.

"So I talked to Meg," Dean began. "She'll text me when you're ready to go tomorrow."

"If the surgeon allows it," Castiel specified.

"I'm not worried about that," Dean replied. "Just, wait for me, okay? I'll get you home safe and cook for you."

"Dean," Castiel started, his head tilted.

"Cas," Dean insisted before Castiel could protest. "I want to. Unless you don't want me to, of course… just…" He licked his lips, he never was any good at expressing emotions and feelings. "Just let me do this, alright?" He hoped his gaze would convey what he wanted to tell Castiel. After all, Castiel himself said he was good at reading between the lines. "Let me take care of you."

Castiel seemed to consider this for a few seconds, too long for Dean's liking who almost backtracked and laughed it out.

"Yes," he finally said with a nod and a serious face.

"Cool! Great!" Dean exclaimed. "Awesome!" he added for good measure, making Castiel chuckle softly.

He stayed with Castiel some more then received a phone call from Benny who informed him he was leaving. "I'll be back soon, brother," Benny promised. Due to the information gathered from Lilith and thanks to Lisa's, it appeared his witness was even more targeted than before. They had to leave in a hurry, destination unknown.

Dean would miss him. A lot. "Keep your nose clean, Benny," he told him.

"You know me!" Benny replied. Dean could the roaring of cars passing by. He had already left, he could tell.

When he walked back into Castiel's room, the guy was slowly dozing off. Dean smiled. He moved silently and leaned to kiss the mop of dark hair. It smelled nothing like hospital hygiene products, but like mint. "I'll see ya tomorrow. Sleep well Cas," he whispered, then gathered his belongings and left the room.

Once he reached his apartment, he continued the cleaning process. The insurance company would come soon to assess the damages and Dean hoped he could get them to repair the hole in the wall he managed to do. Then he hesitated to call Sam but decided against it. He had time, he could tell him over the weekend.


	10. Chapter 10

Of fucking course Captain Singer would be understanding and give him his Thursday afternoon and Friday off. Of fucking course Victor would tease him about Castiel and tell him to take care of him. Of fucking course these people would be kind and understanding. He did not deserve them. Not one bit. So Dean decided to bake a bunch of pies for Monday to bring to the precinct. What else could he do?

The moment Victor hung up his phone, he stood up and gestured for Dean to come with him.

"Got a serious lead!" he shouted. "Let's go!"

"But Boss said-"

"Screw it, it's the most serious lead on Bela we've had!"

They rushed to a high-class building, housing only the biggest and most expensive apartments in the city. As soon as Victor and Dean flashed their badges, the doorman let them in and told them everything they needed to know.

"There are two ladies that match your description," he said. "Miss Yang and Miss Marple."

"Miss Marple?" Dean repeated. "Like the TV show?" The doorman and Victor looked at him without understanding. "It's a… never mind," he said.

The doorman told them about the security cameras and without needing too much pressure, he agreed to show both ladies on tape. Miss Yang was an Asian lady and had a baby in her arms while another walked carefully next to her. Not Bela Talbot, for sure.

"What's her name?" Dean asked when a tall and slender brunette walked in the hallway.

"Miss Marple."

"What's her apartment number?"

"203. But guys, you cannot tell my boss I told you this!" he insisted, getting a little nervous.

Dean took a better look at him. An elderly man, grey hair. That would probably be the quietest and easiest job he'd get considering his age. Of course he didn't want to get laid off.

"Don't worry," Victor assured him. "Where is she now?"

"She left two hours ago."

"Alright. Thanks, man. We'll be back soon. Of course, you cannot mention us to anyone."

"Course!"

They thanked the man and drove back to the precinct. They got her. They finally got her! They could set up surveillance, catch her red-handed. All they needed was the perfect plan and patience.

"No rush," Victor repeated for the third time. "If you rush it, you'll dick it."

"I heard you the first time," Dean replied.

"That's cause it's key, Dean! Especially with robbers. They smell danger, they flee! And now, we can throw her in jail! We need—"

"Patience," Dean interrupted him. "I know, Vic!"

They could not continue their bickering much longer. Dean received a text from Meg. "Pick up your boyfriend" was all it said. He let out a long relieved sigh. It was almost the end of the afternoon and he had not received a single message from Meg or Castiel. He even thought Castiel got home alone or that the doctor didn't want him to leave just yet. Thankfully Bela Talbot and Victor were good at keeping him busy.

He stood up in a hurry and fetched his jacket, eyes fixed on the clock to estimate the travel time.

"Oh," said Victor, "the Prince Charming is calling! You better get going!"

Dean turned and looked at him, frowning. "Why am I the princess in that analogy? I'm just picking Castiel up."

Victor let out a loud laugh. "I just said Castiel was Prince Charming! Never said you were a Princess! But if you insist…"

"Oh no!"

"Now go, your Highness!"

"Shut up, Victor!"

"See you next week, Princess Dean of the Merry Land of Chicago!"

"Fuck you, Victor!" Dean shouted at him while putting his jacket on.

"Don't touch the spinning wheel!" he heard Victor yell back as he was leaving the building under the laughs of the other detectives. He held his middle finger high, just for good measure, and rushed to the Impala. By the time he started the engine, he had already texted Meg back saying he was on his way.

He hesitated to get some desserts for Castiel but he planned to get him home directly. The guy needed rest and comfort.

He drove to the hospital a little faster than he should, but he was eager to get Castiel out of there. He rushed through the corridors, avoiding patients and nurses as much as he could and entered Castiel's room.

Meg was waiting patiently on a chair while Castiel was sitting on his bed. He was finally out of that horrible hospital gown and was now wearing a loose grey sweatpants and a red-ish mismatching sports jacket that was zipped almost all the way up, only his valid arm was out, the other in the sling hidden beneath it. On her knees, a nurse was tying Castiel's sports shoes. The man looked uncomfortable. As soon as he noticed Dean, he leaned down. "I can do it myself, I assure you," he insisted like it was the tenth time already.

"The less you lean down, the better," she said and gave a sympathetic tap on Castiel's knee when she was done. She stood up and looked Castiel up and down. "Now, you're good to go. Don't forget the papers at the front desk."

"I won't. Thank you very much for everything," Castiel said.

"Just doing my job. Goodbye Mister Novak."

She nodded to Dean before leaving the room.

"Hello Dean," Castiel finally greeted him. "I'm sorry it took so long. The surgeon had an emergency intervention that took several hours."

"S'alright! Let's get you out of here. Where's your stuff?" Dean asked, scanning the room until his eyes landed on a large blue backpack he recognized from two days ago when Meg carried it. He grabbed it and hooked one strap over his right shoulder. "Anything else we should get?"

"No, this is it," Meg replied, standing up. "Just the papers and the meds on our way out."

"Okay! Come on, man. Time to go," Dean encouraged Castiel who was looking a bit more tired than the day before. "You're alright?" he asked, concerned.

"I'm fine," Castiel replied.

"He's grumpy 'cause he's tired," Meg said. "He's been waiting for the doc whole morning and afternoon and didn't want to take a nap. Like I _told_ him to."

Castiel rolled his eyes and walked out the door, followed by Meg. They went to the pharmacy and traded the surgeon's prescription against two bottles of pills, one big bottle of antiseptic and several bandages. The nurse repeated what was written on the note and clarified once more how important it was for Castiel to clean the wound.

Then, they left for the front desk where Castiel had to sign several papers. After long minutes of explanations by the receptionist, Castiel was given the 'good to go' and it was with large smiles all three departed from the hospital.

Meg agreed for Dean to give her a ride home. She guided him through the streets of Chicago until they reached a small building almost on the outskirts of the city. She thanked Dean and reminded Castiel to heal himself, then climbed out of the car.

"Alright," Dean said while keeping an eye out for Meg, who was opening her building's front door. "Your turn." He looked at Castiel whose eyes were half-closed. During the twenty minute drive, he had slumped on the seat and was slowly but surely leaning against the window, only making noncommittal hums during the conversation.

Dean couldn't help but smile. He slowly turned up the heat. As they were in the middle of autumn, the weather was getting colder and nothing would soothe Castiel like a calm ride surrounded in warmth. Sure enough, he heard the regular deep inhale and exhale that meant Castiel had fallen asleep. He could not see his face but he seemed so peaceful that Dean did his best to drive the smoothest way he knew.

After almost fifteen minutes, they finally reached Castiel's area. Dean did not know exactly where Castiel lived but it had to be in one of these buildings. A short walking distance most likely. If Dean carried the bag, it'd be easier on Castiel. He parked the Impala in front of Castiel's office, like usual, and killed the engine.

"Hey, Cas, wake up buddy," he sing songed gently "we're there." He slowly brushed Castiel's temple with his fingertips, careful to avoid the hurt shoulder, and continued talking in a soothing voice until the limp form on the seat finally stirred.

"Dean…" Castiel said in voice so low that it gave thrills to Dean. He turned and Dean could admire the glory of the puffy eyes and cranky expression. He tried to repress a laugh but failed.

"Hey there sleeping grumpy. How are you?" he asked with a smirk.

Castiel looked around, visibly confused, then turned his gaze to Dean. "Why did you bring us here?" he questioned in a serious, growly tone.

"To bring you home, remember?" Dean frowned. "Is everything alright? I mean, apart from the busted shoulder, of course."

"This is where I work." Castiel stated and glanced at his building.

"Yeah, I know," Dean chuckled. "We can just walk to where you live."

Castiel opened his mouth just to close it a second later. He squinted at Dean, not saying a word, for such a long moment that Dean actually felt awkward.

"What?" Dean finally shot.

"Do you know where I live?" Castiel asked.

"Around here?"

"About twenty minutes' walk from here." Castiel clarified.

"Excuse me?" Dean gaped.

He must have been a funny because Castiel chuckled and smiled. "This is where I work but my apartment is fifteen to twenty minutes' walk. Depending on how fast you go," he explained.

"Shit, Cas! Why didn't you tell me?" Dean exclaimed but Castiel only made a face. Suddenly, Dean's brain worked again. "Wait… wait! After our dates, when I drove you home. I was just…"

"Driving back to the office, yes."

"Cas! Shit! Seriously! Why didn't you say so?"

Castiel made an awkward half-shrug. "No reason." He contemplated the question a little longer. "I did not want to impose. And I like to walk."

"You should have told me!"

"Now you know."

"Dammit, Cas!"

"I can direct you to my apartment," Castiel finally suggested.

"Yeah! Yeah that'd be a good idea!" Dean shook his head and looked at Castiel whose eyes were still on Dean. "Seriously, man."

Castiel hummed and after Dean started the Impala again, he guided them to a broad avenue.

"You really should get a car," Dean suggested after a while.

"I had one." Castiel said. "A '78 Lincoln Continental. But it broke down and I was told it would not be repairable."

"Seriously? You?" Dean laughed. "I can't! Seriously, I can't imagine you driving a crappy Lincoln Continental."

"It wasn't crappy."

"It totally broke down."

"I liked it."

Dean hummed. That part, he could understand. They drove in comfortable silence for a while, however Dean's brain cells were overheating.

"Hey Cas? Let's find you another '78 Lincoln Continental. What'd'ya say? Humm?"

Castiel sighed. "Dean, it's not… I liked that particular one."

"Okay, so, when we're at your place, you'll tell me the plate number and I'll check if I find it somewhere."

"That's a lot of work for an uncertain result."

"I can try. Plus, if I find it, I can check if it's really beyond repair. I have some knowledge in car repair."

Castiel chuckled. "I know Dean. I read your file."

"Well then, it's a deal?"

"You won't give up?"

"Nope," Dean said, and held his right hand in front of Castiel who shook it and laughed.

"You're insufferable."

"I've been told," Dean agreed.

"Turn right on Wilson," Castiel indicated.

After two other turns, they left the busy part of town and reached a peaceful-looking area where Dean parked. It almost felt residential. While Castiel climbed out of the Impala, Dean grabbed the backpack and helped to look inside for the keys.

They walked to the three-storey building's entrance. Castiel unlocked the door and Dean helped him to open it so they could walk in. He caught Castiel's mail and they climbed the stairs up to the third floor. There were two apartments across the floor. Castiel's was the one on the left.

The moment Dean entered the building, he felt out of place. It was sparkly clean, smelled of lemon and cleaning products. Even the stairs and walls were spotless. He kept quiet until they walked in Castiel's apartment. Then it got worse. It was much bigger than Dean's one bedroom flat. The door opened to the living room which was at least three times the size of Dean's. Next to it, open kitchen with high-tech appliances. The walls were not exactly white but they gave an impression of brightness. The windows were bigger and cleaner and if Dean wasn't mistaken, the two floor-length curtains at the end of the living room were hiding a French window and possibly a balcony.

There were lots of shelves filled with books and little decorations. The walls without shelves just remained bare.

Dean was speechless but tried not to gape. Obviously he failed when Castiel said "It's not much." Dean snorted.

Castiel then indicated Dean could put his jacket wherever he wanted and make himself at home. "I'll deal with the backpack later," he added.

Castiel walked from here to there, possibly his bedroom as there was a bathroom next to it. While Castiel roamed around, Dean sat on the huge and cosy greyish couch. Everything was beautiful and so clean and seemed new. Even the colors were matching, something that Dean never managed to do with his ugly couch and cardboard furniture.

Soon after, Castiel was holding two beer bottles and an opener with his right hand. Dean immediately grabbed them before they fell and opened them while Castiel sat next to him.

"You got a huge ass apartment. It's great!" Dean said enthusiastically. It really was beautiful.

"It's… yes, it's nice," Castiel replied and Dean felt there was another story under it. Lucky he did not have to wait for long. "I rented it when I first dated Meg. It was the first time I was really serious about someone and after only three dates, it was the longest I ever dated." He chuckled but really it was no laughing matter. "I wanted to impress her so I looked for a place in a nice part of the city and bought all sorts of things that I don't even use." He rolled his eyes. "The rent is really high and I need to find something smaller and cheaper but didn't get to it just yet."

Dean hummed. "I hope it was freaking worth it."

"Pardon?"

"Meg. Was she impressed?"

Castiel drank a few gulps of his beer then put it back on the glass tabletop in front of them. "No. Well! She liked the bed. A lot. But the rest? Not so much. She doesn't cook or read much, so I guess my efforts have gone to waste."

"Tell you what! How about I go grab some meat and buns and make us a burger with your kitchen? If I can manage something good in my tiny-ass apartment, I bet it'll taste even better here!" Dean suggested in an enthusiastic voice.

Castiel chuckled but shook his head. "I'd rather you stay. Plus all markets nearby are closed now. It's night already."

"Huh. Right." Dean frowned. "But you haven't had dinner yet. We should get you something to eat."

"I'm not hungry, really."

Dean tutted him. "You need energy to heal. Pizza's fine?"

"Yes, Dean."

"Awesome!" he said while taking his phone out and dialing his favorite pizza delivery service.

After a short talk and Castiel's indication, Dean hung up. "Thirty minutes, tops!"

"You don't have to."

"Yeah but I want to. Plus I got tomorrow off, so after I put you to bed after dinner and let you rest, I'll be here again tomorrow with breakfast. What'd'ya say?"

"I'd like that," Castiel replied with a shy smile.

By the time they finished their beers, the pizza arrived. Dean hurried to get the pizza and tipped the delivery boy, then he fetched two other beers from Castiel's fridge before putting them back. He found two glasses and filled them with tap water.

"Meds and alcohol?" he said under the interrogative look from Castiel. "Not a good idea. And I guess you have some to take while you eat so…"

Castiel sighed. "You're right." He stood up and got the two bottles from his bag, then walked back to the couch. He waited for Dean to remove the pizza's cardboard lid. "It smells good," he said. "I must admit I'm a bit hungry now."

Dean barked a laugh. "Well then, dig in. Don't wait up!"

But soon, he realized that taking a slice with one arm was a bit of a challenge. Dean detached a slice and handed it to him. Castiel thanked him then took a bite.

"Is good!" he said, mouth full.

"I know, right!"

When they reached almost half of the pizza, Castiel took one pill with water, then ate some more. They finished the pizza quickly and let themselves rest on the couch.

"Thank you Dean. It was delicious."

"It's alright, Cas. That's the least I can do."

They lingered on the couch a little longer, their stomach full as Dean questioned Castiel about his favorite type of breakfast.

"Honestly Dean, coffee or tea is enough."

"Come on, man! Pancakes or scrambled eggs?"

"I assure you, there is no need for any of this. Just coffee and your presence is enough," Castiel assured.

At that moment, Dean wanted to kiss the little guy. It was so sappy and so sweet! But Castiel never made a move, never even addressed it. Dean did not even feel a vibe coming from him. It was frustrating and he really wanted to verify if Castiel's lips were as soft as in his dreams and fantasies.

Dean muffled a sigh and stood up.

"Time for little birdies to go to bed," he said.

"Little birdies?"

Dean cleared his throat. "Come on, work with me or let it slide."

"I hope you don't expect me to chirp," Castiel said in a serious tone, making Dean laugh out loud.

"Not really, no. Unless it's your thing!" He looked around. "This your bedroom?" he asked, pointed at the only closed door. Castiel nodded. "I'll prepare your bed."

Castiel looked like he wanted to protest but remained silent which Dean took as an encouragement. He walked to the closed door and removed his shoes before entering the room.

Just like the rest of the apartment, it was bright with soothing colors. A large closet on his left, the bed on his right. The bed was huge. Immense! And looked comfortable like a cloud. It took all Dean's will to not run and jump on the fluffy pillows and comforter. Maybe another time.

He noticed that the alarm clock was on the right side, which meant it was where Castiel usually slept. He pulled off the duvet just enough for Castiel to sit and slide in. But besides this and closing the curtains of the large window above the bed, there really wasn't anything he could do. He turned on the bedside lamps and spun to go back to the living room but found himself nose to nose to a smiling Castiel.

"Geez! Wear a bell, Cas!" Dean shouted, feeling his heart racing in his chest.

Castiel laughed quietly then walked into the room. "Thank you Dean," he said. "I believe you must be tired as well. You should go home."

Dean exhaled a little louder than he wanted to. "Yeah, I probably should." He admitted though he had hoped that Castiel would let him stay the night, even if only on the couch. Maybe he was too hung up on the guy and he wasn't that much into him. Would explain why Castiel never tried to kiss him or get in his pants.

As he walked back to the living-room, Dean remember the scene from the hospital, where the nurse had helped Castiel to tie his shoes. He did a 180 and strolled back in the bedroom.

"Let me help you out of these, then I'm on my way."

"Dean, you don't have to. I can do it myself."

"Tsk tsk tsk. If the nurse did it, it's because you really couldn't," he said. "Plus," he added thankfully remembering the nurse's words, "she told you to not lean forward."

"Dean…"

"You know I'm right. And I'm stubborn like that." He walked up to Castiel who was standing still between his bed and the door, then kneeled down. "Come on," he encouraged him. "And no pouting!" He silently thanked Castiel for the very thick and very soft carpet.

It took several seconds for Castiel to make up his mind. Dean heard the loud sigh but Castiel's face showed more amusement than anything else. Dean had to admit it was a nice view from down here. He forced himself to not confuse reality with porn, though his position could be interpreted in different ways. Also, he could not touch Castiel's thighs that looked amazing under the sweatpants. Castiel had admitted he had a soft spot for running but hadn't have time anymore. Well, it showed!

Finally, Castiel moved his right foot and Dean immediately took hold and fumbled with the nurse's knot. She had tied the shoelace a little too tight, making Dean's task a little more complicated than it should really be. It took him a full minute and many swear words to get it open. At last, he managed to pull Castiel's foot out of the shoe. He also removed the sock as Castiel warned him with a "Dean…"

"S'alright, Cas. Now the sister! Come on!" he cheered.

As Castiel placed his right foot back and the other forward, he swayed a little. Immediately, Dean placed his hands on Castiel to straighten him. "Wow there! You're alright?" he asked while looking up. He met Castiel's eyes for a second before he averted his gaze, a little embarrassed.

"Sorry Dean, I feel a little light-headed."

"Meds and booze, Cas. Meds and booze," Dean said, shaking his head, however Castiel refused to meet his eyes. "Don't worry, you'll soon be in bed, snoring like a bear!"

"I don't snore!" Castiel refuted, staring at an undefined point on the floor.

"Yeah, we'll see about that, soon I hope!" Dean said, but as he did not get any reaction from Castiel, fell back into silence. The possibility that Castiel was not that much into him grew suddenly bigger. He forced the thought down his pity-pit for later examination and focused back on the shoelace.

"Fuck!" he swore. "Looks even tighter than the other one."

"My apologies."

"Not your fault, Cas. Bear with me, okay?"

Castiel still sounded a little embarrassed and out of it. The sooner Dean finished his task, the better for the guy. He must be knackered. It took all Dean's focus and energy to manage to untie the shoelace and several times he was tempted to get up, run to the kitchen and grab a pair of scissors or a sharp knife to cut them. When he finally succeeded, it felt like a victory, like Rocky Balboa on top the stairs in Philadelphia. He leaned back a little, using the balls of his feet to rest.

"Well that was something," he sighed. "Next time, I'll do them myself!" he joked. "Got it Cas?"

He looked up and saw that Castiel was still looking away, bearing that embarrassed expression on his face. "Cas?"

"Yes, Dean. Next time you do it."

Dean observed Castiel a little longer. It seemed his cheeks were getting rosier. However he refrained for asking again if he was alright. It felt like he asked the question a hundred times already.

He leaned forward and focused on the last shoe. With infinite caution, he helped Castiel's foot out and removed the sock. He let out a satisfied sigh. "There you go! All done!" He put the socks in the shoes and placed them next to the wall on his right.

As he looked up, he couldn't help but notice how flushed Castiel's cheeks now were. "Buddy, you're alright?" he blurted before he could stop himself.

"I'm fine Dean," Castiel replied, his voice a bit too throaty.

"Seriously, there's something wrong. What is it?" Dean pushed. "Did I hurt you? Are you in pain?" Castiel shook his head but still kept his stare away. "Hey, Cas, look at me. What's wrong?"

He saw Castiel quickly lick his lips. Slowly he lowered his gaze until he locked eyes with Dean. "There," Dean said with a bright smile. "Wasn't so hard." But Castiel's expression did not change. If anything, he heard him swallow loudly. Then, his eyes travelled lower then stopped. Dean followed his gaze and it took him a second to understand what was happening. He gaped, then let out a loud laugh. Right in front of him, in a place Dean had avoided as much as he could, an unmistakable bulge was straining the sweatpants.

"Cas…" Dean started, stuck between disbelief and amazement. "Is this a boner?" He asked.

"Yes," Castiel replied in a tiny but deep voice.

"How can you even pop a boner now? Does taking your shoes off—" he stopped, suddenly realizing he was the one kneeling in front of Castiel's pants and even had the same thoughts not ten minutes before. "Oh…" he trailed in understanding. "Oooooh…"

"Yes." Castiel repeated.

"So, just me kneeling like this?"

"Yes. I err… I have a vivid imagination and you are very, very, very attractive," he said in a serious tone.

Dean chuckled, glancing between Castiel's red and embarrassed face and his bulge. "Even with your meds?"

"Yes."

Dean licked his lips. Part of him was relieved to see Castiel reacted so well. He was flattered, to be honest. Another part wanted to act on it but was not sure he was allowed to. He swallowed. Slowly, Castiel's eyes still on him, he raised his hands and put them on his thighs.

"Is this okay?"

"Yes."

He gently stroked Castiel's thighs up and down. They were firm under his hands. Castiel really was well built. After a few seconds, he moved his hands higher.

"Can I?" Dean asked.

"Yes," came Castiel's breathy reply.

While keeping his left hand against Castiel's thigh, soothing him with a soft caress, he laid his right against his bulge and could feel his length and how hard he already was. He immediately felt a throbbing in his own pants. Castiel's breathing hitched as he pressed his palm and rubbed slowly. Castiel was so hard, it made Dean wonder how he got to that stage in such short period.

Oh well, question for another time. Now that he seemed to be allowed to touch, he craved the whole package. Or, maybe not everything yet as he, himself, was not entirely sure where he wanted to draw the line. Also, he never touched anyone's cock but his before. Okay, maybe Benny's through his jeans, but that was it. It was a complete unknown territory for him.

According to Castiel's closed eyes, he wasn't doing that bad. When he stopped his slow petting, he opened his eyes wide. Dean moved his hands higher and slipped his fingers under the sweatpants' waistband and Castiel's hips. He was surprised to feel skin against his.

"Can I?" he asked again.

Castiel only nodded which was enough. Slowly, he pulled the pants down and freed his throbbing erection. A whiff of mint and musk scent reached his nose.

"Beautiful," he whispered. He took his time to fully admire the view. Short pubic hair that led to a thick cock with darker skin. He wanted to lean in and kiss the tip. Suddenly, he desired that more than anything. But not yet.

"Dean," Castiel whined above him.

"It's okay, Cas. I'm here with you," he assured him.

He pulled the pants all the way down and helped Castiel out of it, observing how his cock bobbed with each movement. Then, he noticed.

"You go commando?" he asked, astonished.

"Dean, now is really not the time to ask about my clothing habits," Castiel replied in a serious and slightly annoyed tone.

"Woah, you really do go commando! Never would have thought you'd be the type," Dean continued.

"Dean, can you… can you please?" Castiel repeated, making Dean chuckle at his helpless tone.

"And now you're getting impatient," he tutted before throwing the pants in a corner of the room.

Again, he laid his hands on Castiel's thighs. They were marvelous. So firm, so muscular, his skin so soft. He couldn't keep quiet, he had to let Castiel know.

"You're gorgeous, Cas," he said while gently stroking his legs. "So beautiful." As his eyes landed on Castiel's dick, he leaned and kissed the tip.

"Dean," Castiel whined, his voice thick and sweet.

Was he doing this? Dean wondered. Was he really going to do this? He kissed his cock again before licking him all the way from the base to the head.

Suddenly, he felt Castiel hand on top of his head. At that moment, he was lost. He had never given a blowjob before but he sure appreciated them. If only he could do to Castiel what he liked. He lifted his right hand and closed his fingers in an easy fist, pumping twice before looking up to search Castiel's face.

His breathing was hitched and fast, eyes fluttering but still looking at Dean.

"So damn beautiful, Cas," Dean whispered and jerked him a little faster.

"I… Dean… I won't… keep long."

"It's okay, Cas. Just… Enjoy, okay?" he told him.

He tilted his head and licked Castiel's slit, making him gasp. There was his cue! He took Castiel's cock in his mouth and slid down until it bumped in the back of his throat, then withdrew. The hand on his head unexpectedly became a fist and held a few strand of his short dark blond hair. Castiel moaned. He honest to god moaned! And Dean'd be damned if he didn't hear that sound again soon!

He pumped with his fist a few times, letting his saliva slide along his length, then took the head in his mouth again and started to suck in earnest.

"Deeeeaaaaaan…" Castiel whimpered. "Oh… God… Dean…"

That sound went straight to his own painful erection in his jeans. He then remembered his hands and while his right slowly jerked Castiel (he had some coordination to learn), his left gently stroked his thigh, hip and even ventured to his round and firm ass. Damn Castiel was a gorgeous piece of man!

He then tried to take Castiel's cock deeper in his mouth, rolling his tongue on the vein under. He now had a full taste of Castiel, musky and salty. It was new for Dean. He couldn't say he loved it at first but he could get used to it, especially if it took Castiel apart like this.

Above him, Castiel was a moaning litany of "Dean, Dean, Dean" and it made him feel excruciatingly good and proud. He took Castiel deeper again but suddenly felt it bump against his teeth. Castiel hissed but said nothing. Too much, too soon. He withdrew almost all the way and sucked again, harder. Pre-cum was now mixed with his own saliva. His mouth was so full, he started to have difficulties to breathe. But he didn't want to give up. Not while he still could go a little longer.

Suddenly, the grip on his hair squeezed harder.

"Dean, I…"

The warning came and after he tighten his hold on his cock and fasten his movement, he heard Castiel's breath catch. The next second, he felt a warm liquid hit his tongue and fill his mouth some more. He pumped twice more, gripping hard, accompanying Castiel's orgasm. Then he let go of his cock, some strings of saliva and release still attached to the head while a little ran down his chin.

Dean hesitated. Should he swallow? No, he really did not want to. Not now anyway. He stood up and as fast as he could, ran to the bathroom. He palmed the wall until he found the switch and turned the lights on. He saw the sink and hurried over there to spit everything. He rinsed his mouth the best he could with running water but the taste was still there, lingering. He decided Castiel wouldn't get angry if he borrowed some toothpaste. He purred a good dose on his tongue and started to flush with water. Soon, the salty taste was replaced with mint and he felt a bit better. Well, if he ignored his own throbbing and painful erection. He chose to ignore it.

He turned the light off and walked back to Castiel's bedroom. He found the guy standing at the same place, his cock now shrinking. His face was flushed and some strands of hair glued to his forehead and temples. He looked spent and marvelous. Dean's heart started to beat faster. Damn he was gorgeous. He'd never get tired of looking at him.

Then, Castiel looked up and their eyes met. They both smiled, shyly at first. But Dean didn't want any awkwardness between them. As he took a step forward, he heard Castiel whisper a "Thank you". That was too much for Dean. His nerves may have short-circuited. He laughed loudly and when he finally stood in front of Castiel, took an immense pleasure at ruffling his hair. Thankfully, Castiel did not seem offended by his sudden hilarity.

"Glad you liked it," Dean said. "Come on, Cas. Let's get you to bed."

He did not miss the droopy eyes and little smile on his lover's face. He helped to zip down the jacket and to take it off. Now, Castiel was entirely naked in front of him, apart from his arm in the sling.

"Fuck you're gorgeous, Cas."

"So you've said." Castiel replied with a smile.

"And I'll repeat it. Damn you're hot!"

Castiel's eyes crinkled and he offered a beautiful smile.

"Where are your pajamas?" Dean asked abruptly before Castiel could say anything. After an awkward silent, Dean understood there were none. "Geez, Cas!" Dean exclaimed.

"I can wear an under-pants if you want," Castiel said. "I must have one or two."

Dean shook his head. "Nah, you wear what you want, what makes you feel good."

Then, Castiel explained he wanted to keep the sling on. It was horribly uncomfortable but it kept his arm in check, something he couldn't do while sleeping. Since his shoulder was still painful, he did not want to risk rolling on the wrong side and waking up in agony.

"Fair enough," Dean said.

He waited for Castiel to carefully slide between the sheets, then covered him nicely with the comforter.

"Comfortable?"

"Comfortable enough." Castiel replied with a smile, lying on his back.

"Good," Dean nodded. "I'll be back tomorrow, okay?"

"Dean," Castiel called. "The bed is big enough for two. Please stay?"

Finally. Finally! The words he was so eager to hear. From the start he wanted Castiel to say them. For one silly second, he wanted to play a stupid game and insist he had to leave, just so Castiel would repeat. No. He wouldn't take the risk of Castiel changing his mind.

"Okay."

He turned and took most of his clothes off. He could feel Castiel's eyes on him. "Like what you see?" he couldn't help but tease.

"Very much so," came Castiel's reply in a growly voice.

Thankfully, by the time he put Castiel to bed and stripped down, Dean's erection had wavered. He left his boxer on, not trusting himself to be in the same bed as Castiel naked. At least the fabric would work as a barrier. It was better than nothing!

He gathered his clothes and threw them on the white wooden chair in the corner then walked to the bedside lamp to switch the lights off.

"Dean…" Castiel said. "Should I take care of that?" he asked, eyeing Dean's softening boner.

"Raincheck, buddy. Now, we sleep."

"But—"

"Nope. S'alright," he cut Castiel. "A case of blue balls never killed anyone. It'll pass."

He found the switch and turned it off. Suddenly the bedroom was almost entirely dark. "Shit…" he muttered, making Castiel chuckle.

"Turn to your left. The bed is about fifty centimeters from you." Castiel indicated.

Dean followed the instruction and soon he reached the bed. He patted his way around then climbed on the other side.

"Damn your sheets are soft!"

"They better be, they were quite expensive."

Dean shuffled around. The bed was a gift from god. Not too hard, not too soft, not too warm, not too cold. And the pillows! He needed to buy the same for his bed!

After a few seconds, he heard some ruffling coming from Castiel's side. The mattress moved a little, then a hiss.

"Cas?"

He received an annoyed sigh as a reply.

"Can we… I'll understand if you don't want to. You've already done so much for me already. And I feel a bit selfish to ask that now."

"Spit it out."

"Dean, it's silly."

"Come on. Spill."

"Can we… maybe… cuddle?" Castiel asked in a tiny voice.

Okay, Dean did not expect that. More something along the lines of closing the bedroom door or checking if the front door was locked. Really not this.

"Of course!" he replied. He would never admit he had also hoped for this. Never. He wasn't a cuddler! He'd deny this to his dying breath.

He slithered to Castiel whose body radiated heat. He arranged his arms, one between them, one around Castiel's waist right under his sling. Then he tentatively rested his head against Castiel's valid shoulder, warm and welcoming. This was nice. This was really nice.

"You alright?" he asked.

"Yes Dean. Thank you."

He could hear the smile in his voice.

"Am not too heavy?"

"No, you're perfect."

Dean snorted. Yeah, right! He felt Castiel turn his head then kiss his hair before resting his cheek on the same place.

"Did…" Castiel started. "Did you blow me before we even kissed?"

Dean frowned. "Oh, crap… I guess I did!" he replied with a chuckle. "Is this a complaint?"

"No. Just… unusual."

Dean sniffed. He felt his eyes become heavier. "Everything about us is unusual."

Castiel hummed but did not comment. They remained in pleasant silence for a couple of minutes.

"Thank you Dean. For everything." Castiel finally said.

"Don't sweat it," Dean replied. He felt nice and cosy. Really nice. Castiel was a whole length of warmth. His now steady breathing slowly lulling him to sleep.

"I mean it."

"Hmm. So do I," Dean slurred as his eyes gradually closed. When was the last time he felt that good? _Screw it! Enjoy it!_ He shut his eyes and as he gently ran his thumb on Castiel's side, he knew he'd fall asleep within seconds.

"G'night Cas," he mumbled. He could get used to this. He really could.

Another kiss on top of his head.

So nice. So warm.

So…


	11. Chapter 11 - Epilogue

Dean laughed, head thrown back and mouth opened while Sam rolled his eyes. On his left, sitting on the floor like he was, Castiel chuckled as he carefully reviewed the cards in his hands.

"And then, she said," Gabriel continued "Are you sure that's whipped cream?" he finished in a nasal high-pitched voice.

Dean laughed even louder, almost falling on his side.

"I swear to God, Gabe, if I hear the story one more time you will sleep on the couch for a week!" Sam exclaimed, though the fondness in his tone was almost palpable.

"You gotta admit it's one of my best," Gabriel replied with a smirk.

"It is!" Dean finally managed to shout, smile wide from laughing. "It really is!"

Castiel asked for a card then nodded. All looked at Dean who was eyeing Castiel. In front of them, the coffee table was filled with papers with different promises: apple pie, one kilogram of licorice, one gratuitous law advice, one complete burger set, and so on. Each of them preferred to use the coupon system instead of betting real money. They have been playing for so long that the amount of paper was incredibly high and totally worth it.

"Yeah, no," Dean decided. "I fold." He threw his cards on the table while Gabriel and Sam screamed a loud "Whaaat?"

"Dean," Sam said, incredulous. "You're giving all that without even trying?"

"Hey, I don't think the past half-hour of so is 'without trying'. And yeah, I fold. Sorry guys, it's between you two now."

He took his beer and finished the bottle in three gulps while eyeing Castiel whose gaze was fixed on Gabriel.

It was six months after the Lilith debacle/victory. Six whole months after Dean and Castiel officially became a couple. Dean had called Sam a few days after to tell him the news. His too-big puppy of a little brother had then pushed for Dean and Castiel to meet him in California. After a little push from Castiel, Dean agreed. Which led to a painful plane trip for both Castiel and him. Damn he hated flying! He didn't like the idea, now he plain hated flying.

Sam had picked them up at the San Francisco airport and after an enthusiastic hug from him (and pained whine from Castiel), their first meeting went great. Dean was so glad to see his boyfriend and little brother hit it off so easily. They went straight to Gabriel's candy store to pick him up. That was his latest fancy idea. After selling all his properties, he decided to buy the biggest shop next to Market Street and transform it to a kid's heaven.

"When I first met him, he was an ambulance chaser. Then a real estate realtor. Then a janitor cause a realtor was too much work. Then he tried some stand-ups as a comedian which worked pretty well. But he said he didn't receive the warm welcome he should've," Sam had explained while driving them to the city. "He bought lots of rundown properties, fixed them up and rented them. And well… now he owns the biggest store in San Francisco."

"The biggest candy store?" Dean had asked.

"No," he had sighed. "The biggest store, and filled with candies."

Indeed, it was huge. Four stories high, taking up to a whole block for itself. There even was a slide for kids to play. Actually, it was filled with kids running everywhere and parents desperately trying to relax while sipping their coffee in the café corner, which was about the size of a double-closet. The rest was all for kids and candies.

"Are you dating Willy Wonka?" Dean has wondered when entering the building.

"I ask myself that question every day," Sam admitted.

The security guards were slowly but firmly pushing the families out to close the store. A few remaining ones were buying what seemed like a whole year of sweets, but regarding as how hyper their kids were, it would probably only last a month at best.

Sam had then given them the grand tour, leaving Dean and Castiel amazed and wondering what that Gabriel would be like. In all honesty, he wasn't what Dean had expected. At all! First, he was shorter than all of them, which meant something as Sam was built like a fortress. Second, he clearly was older but his eyes were sparkling with happiness and, to be fair, mischief. Third, he was a little pudgy midways and physically what Dean had anticipated. And a fourth one that led to an awkward moment.

"Castiel Novak," Castiel said while holding his hand out after Dean had presented himself.

Immediately, Gabriel's wide smile faltered. "Novak? Castiel? That's an unusual first name."

Castiel had frowned a little at what seemed to be a cold shoulder. "Yes, it is," he admitted but wanted to be at his best and decided a little humor would be best. "My sibling got lucky. Her name is Anna. She doesn't have to repeat herself every other day at Starbucks."

Sam and Dean chuckled but Gabriel's smile totally disappeared. "Any link with a James and Amelia Novak perhaps?" he asked in such a serious voice that even Sam asked what was wrong but got ignored.

It was the Castiel's turn to frown deeper. "James and Amelia were my parents."

"Cas…" Dean whispered. Castiel hated talking about his parents. Their story was sad and he didn't like reminders. James and Amelia, deeply in love and loving parents, were blessed with the little Claire. Castiel was thrilled and Anna even more so as she would spend time with her little sister. Unfortunately, Claire passed away at one month. James never recovered and he drank himself to death. Literally. Though the reports were never clear whether he lost control of his car or if he voluntarily committed suicide. Amelia disappeared a couple of years later. The house loan was paid, the bills were too every month. Money would appear on Castiel's bank account, then on Anna's when she reached eighteen. Though neither saw their mother again. Sore topic, really.

Gabriel sighed and surprisingly gave a huge pat on Castiel's right shoulder, strong enough to make him wince. As it turned out, Gabriel was Michael's brother. More specifically Michael, Raphael and Luke's. He was another mystery of the family and neither of his brothers talked about him. Not a word. The only thing Castiel remembered from his childhood was James receiving a phone call from Chuck, his brother, telling him Gabriel ran away and that no one should speak about him. Ever.

"Hey, little cous'!" Gabriel exclaimed. "It's nice to meet you!"

Dean and Sam shared a questioning look. The Novak family was a strange one. Then, Gabriel decided to celebrate this family meeting and both he and Sam were adamant to give them the best of times. They did, of course. Though Gabriel almost got arrested by the local police.

That was three months ago. Castiel used Gabriel's help and forced Sam to take a day off so they could meet them in Chicago in March. Dean was a little nervous because neither Castiel nor he had enough money to pay for great restaurants or seats in the front rows of a sold out standup comedy. It had been awesome but Dean had so little to offer.

"Don't worry," Castiel had tried to reassure him. "Gabriel is easy going. He will be happy with anything."

"Yeah? How do you know?" Dean asked, sulking over his beer. How could he give an awesome time to his brother if Gabriel always set the bar that high?

"Because Sam told me."

"You talk behind my back?" Dean shot a little more vehemently that he originally wanted.

"Yes, of course. I think of Sam as my friend. We talk a lot. You already knew that."

"Yeah… yeah…"

"Just be yourself, and it'll be fine."

Dean grumbled some more until Castiel threw his arm around his shoulder and kissed his temple.

"Think about it. Do they feel like money-hungry, posh and snobs, know-it-all?" Castiel asked.

"No, clearly not."

"So?"

Dean sighed. "You're right. I'm just bitching. They gave us such a great time, I want to repay the favor."

Castiel nodded, brushing his week-end-stubble against Dean's ear. "Make them one of your burgers and they'll be happy."

Dean hummed.

"Threw in a pie and you'll win Gabriel," he added.

"Aren't you asking just because you want to eat that too?"

Castiel kept silent for a couple of seconds before answering "Maybe?"

And now, the four of them were in his little apartment's living room. Gabriel and Sam sitting on the old couch, Dean and Castiel on the floor, playing poker. But Dean knew better than try to decide whether Castiel was bluffing or not.

Gabriel squinted at Castiel and hummed as if he was thinking hard about it. "Alright, bucko! All in!"

Sam shook his head while Dean whistled. Gabriel took three other papers and showed them to Castiel then placed them on top of the pile.

"Show me yours, I'll show you mine!" he exclaimed, followed by a pained "Gaaabe!" from Sam.

Castiel laid down his cards. Jack of Diamonds. Queen of Diamonds. King of Diamonds. Ace of Diamonds.

"WHAT?!" Gabriel screamed. He showed his hand. Two pairs. "How do you even manage that?"

Castiel shrugged and a little too smugly, gathered the paper pieces and started to review them one by one, while Gabriel whined louder and flopped dramatically on Sam's lap.

"Ah! Woe is me! My life is a misery!" he lamented, making Sam laugh.

"Maybe we should get ready. It's late already," Sam said, petting Gabriel's hair.

"Hmm… five more minutes, pleeeeease?"

"Jesus Gabe."

"One last beer than we'll go. Deal?" Gabriel tried.

"Deal."

"I'll get you two the refill," Dean said while sitting up.

"Nah, stay put. I'll go," Sam decided.

"I'll go with you!" Gabriel exclaimed.

They both stood up and walked to the kitchen just around the corner. Dean tried hard to not see how Gabriel's hand slapped his little brother's ass. He turned his attention to Castiel who was strangely silent. Not that he was the chatty type, but Dean could tell.

"What's up, Cas?" Dean asked.

Castiel made a face and showed him a piece of paper. Dean leaned in and read out loud "Coupon for one kiss wherever you want," he laughed. "Yeah, I hoped you'd win."

Castiel shook his head and smiled. "Imagine if Sam hadn't been the bank?"

"Why do you think I threw that in just now?"

"You're insufferable," Castiel shook his head. "And I'll like to chip it now," he continued, holding the paper for Dean to take.

Dean leaned closer and picked Castiel's lips with a quick kiss. "Hey Babe," he said in a low voice "How about I drive these two to your place and you chip that when I'm back, huh? It's been a while since you last broke any lath from my bed."

Castiel frowned. "You're cheesy, Dean. And it was the last time I was here. Which is why Sam and Gabriel use my flat during their stay."

Dean looked at him, unimpressed. He really was not ready to let go. He kissed him once. Twice. Thrice. Until Castiel finally smiled. "Alright you win," he said in an exaggerated sigh before placing a hand around Dean's waist and bringing them even closer. They kissed longer and deeper, hands rubbing whatever part they could find, until they heard a loud throat clearing from Sam.

"We could go now?" Sam suggested while Dean moved away from Castiel quickly. He never was one for public displays of affection. He needed to work on that.

"Please stay," Castiel replied as Gabriel grinned behind his lover. "I believe Gabriel wants a rematch."

"Damn straight, cous'!"

Dean took the beer Sam was handing him. He already had enough. He was pleasantly buzzing and knew he might end up drunk. But he didn't mind. Sam and Gabe could sleep here tonight and they wouldn't mind. He wanted to spend as much time as possible with them. They were only staying for a long week-end and would fly back to San Francisco the next Tuesday.

Then, Dean would have to go back to his case, find a way to catch that burglar cat Bela Talbot who managed to slip between their fingers twice already. He could also breach the topic of living in only one apartment with Castiel if this dry-run was conclusive. They both already knew it would be. They just decided to take things slow and Castiel was slowly but surely freeing more and more space for Dean's stuff. As if Dean didn't notice! He was a detective, damnit!

"I'll be the bank!" he announced loudly, under the boos and rebuffs, making him laugh loudly.

\- FIN -


End file.
